


Dancing in the Dark

by tiny_freakin_head



Series: PINK [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: (consensual ECT!), A sweet and gentle relationship...with fire, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Awkward Flirting, Background RED Spy/RED Sniper and RED Spy/RED Engineer, Canon Typical Violence, Crossfaction, Depression, Electroconvulsive Therapy, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Mental Health Issues, Non-Binary Pyro, Oral, Other, PIV Sex, PTSD, Past Torture, Pegging, S&M, Sadism, fireplay, handjob, lots of swearing, pyrophilia, sm, this spy really likes to swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2020-03-07 19:13:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 57,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18879487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_freakin_head/pseuds/tiny_freakin_head
Summary: Spy has been dreaming about the RED Pyro—his greatest enemy—hurting him in ways that have nothing to do with battle.*Updates most Sundays, occasionally alternating with its sister-fic.





	1. Sunday September 15th

**Author's Note:**

> Ok this one takes a bit of an explanation:
> 
> This is a spin-off story of [Idée Fixe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19336462/chapters/45998707#main), based off a throw-away line in that one that didn’t even make the final cut.
> 
> Both stories can be read by themselves, but they do definitely overlap and interweave. (The dates are SUPER important for keeping track of the two parallel stories. Side note, the M half of TFH is a wizard and CORRECTLY chose the right dates for the year the story is set in without looking)
> 
> These two stories combined represent an AU of a trilogy M and mister-stalker are writing (Fifty Shades of RED). 
> 
> This fic was started when the M half of TFH was going through ECT. Writing about the treatment working for Pyro was very comforting at the time, and it felt important to write about it in a positive light for people who have tried or are considering trying it for themselves.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/gp/182521236@N04/D4qg72)

 

 

 

**Sunday September 15th**

Spy felt the exact moment the dream turned. He tried to fight it, to claw his way back to wakefulness, but the dream continued unhindered. The dreams weren’t identical, by any means, but always similar.

It began, as always, with battle. Ordinary—cloaking as the enemy team, slipping into their base, sapping machines. It could have been a simple mental replay of the day’s events, except that he knew what was coming next.

The RED Pyro trapped him in a blind corner, crushing one arm against his throat, actually lifting him onto his toes. He begged for mercy, but his voice had a strange edge to it. Almost as though he were flirting, rather than genuinely pleading for his life.

The dream-Pyro never spoke, but Spy always seemed to know what they wanted anyways, as though their needs were simply narrated through his dream. They took off their mask, but Spy never could seem to focus on their face. It was just one of those fuzzy details of a dream. They took Spy’s cigarette, pulled off his mask and pressed the red-hot cherry into the soft skin of his neck. By now they were both grinding against each other.

Spy screamed, head snapping back, but not with pain. It hurt, certainly, but he wanted _more._ “ _Oui, s’il vous plait!_ ” he begged, and now it was clear what he’d been begging for all along. He needed satisfaction only the enemy Pyro could give him.

The RED gave a muffled moan, as though their mask was still blocking their mouth. Then the two of them were kissing, and the little flame of a lighter was being drawn down Spy’s chest. He was suddenly undressed, naked and arching against the full suit of the Pyro, helpless under their strong hand and the burn of the fire.

 _“Oui, oui,_ _s’il vous plait, je_ —“

 _“Merde.”_ Spy sat up, pulling his sticky blanket off himself with a grimace of disgust. He hadn’t had a wet dream in years—decades, perhaps, now that he thought of it. Why did the thought of the Pyro—the _enemy_ Pyro—doing…that to him suddenly bring them on again?

He stood, throwing his blanket on the floor in a fit of childishness. If he was going to cum in his sleep like a child, he might as well act like one! The digital clock on his side table told him it was nearly four in the morning.

He splashed cold water on his face, wiped himself clean, and stared at himself in the mirror. “This is getting out of hand,” he told his reflection. It nodded in agreement.

He had a spare blanket, but he didn’t think he’d be able to get back to sleep any time soon. Perhaps a walk would help settle his mind. He liked walking the halls of the base when everyone was asleep. He wasn’t sure why, but he found it comforting.

Well, _almost_ everyone was asleep. He heard Medic’s voice, shrill and flamboyant as ever, but answered by another voice. A completely unfamiliar voice. That was…interesting.

His watch was on—he never took it off—and it took but a moment to cloak himself and follow the voices to the infirmary. Medic was standing beside a cot, nodding and taking the blood pressure of the bed’s occupant. A stranger. A stranger, on the base, in the infirmary, at this hour? Bizarre.

It was a young man, wearing a baggy hooded sweatshirt and pyjama pants, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His hair was cut very short to his scalp, but was still visibly flame-red, as were his eyebrows and lashes. He was short, but curvy. He stretched out his arm after Medic removed the cuff, and Spy could see prominent muscles flex and bulge. He was…gorgeous. Spy couldn’t shake the uncanny feeling that this man reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t think who it could possibly be. Who would he know who would be a mutual acquaintance of Medic’s? And why would he be here?

An advantage of his cloak was that he could stand, fully exposed, in the doorway, rather than trying to eavesdrop from a less convenient vantage point.

 _“Ja,_ your vitals are all normal.” Medic gave the stranger a friendly pat on the back. “But I wouldn’t mind if you stayed a few more minutes just to be sure.”

“Alright,” the stranger agreed, but he didn’t seem to be focusing on Medic’s words anymore. He had stiffened up like a guard dog and was looking around the infirmary as though expecting to see someone.

“Is everything alright? Are you feeling nauseous?” Medic asked, already reaching for a metal bowl.

The hairs on the back of Spy’s neck stood on end. It was absurd, impossible… He hadn’t made a sound, he was sure of it…but he felt like the man was staring directly at _him._

“No, I’m ok,” he assured Medic, giving him a tired smile. Whatever the treatment had been, he still had sticky gel on his temple and in his short hair and he began to pick it off. Even now he seemed on guard, his expression no longer quite so sleepy.

“If you’re sure.” Medic shrugged, turning to tidy away his equipment.

Spy considered simply retreating, but now that he was here he found himself strangely reluctant to do so. Besides, maybe Medic could help him with his own problem. He took a step back from the door, uncloaked, then knocked on the doorframe. “Ah, I’m sorry to disturb you and your…friend,” he said, as though seeing the stranger for the first time. “Please forgive the intrusion.”

Medic waved away his concern. “Let me just put this away and I will take care of whatever you need.” The doctor rolled a little cart away with a bunch of equipment dangling from it. By now he was used to teammates coming and going at all hours. And at least tonight he was already up and awake.

The redhead gave Spy a smile, relaxing a little. His smile was a little mischievous. “Hi, Spy.”

“I see I need no introduction.” Spy wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“I’m glad you uncloaked.”

“You’re glad I—you _did_ know I was there! How?” Spy demanded, before rounding on Medic. “And you! I was prepared to ignore the fact that you have a…an unsanctioned visitor here in the middle of the night!” Fuck, he sounded like fucking _Soldier_ right now. “But telling him about…certain technologies! That, I simply cannot ignore.” If it had been anyone else’s technology he wouldn’t have minded, but for his own to be compromised was unthinkable.

Medic shook his head at the stranger. “You couldn’t have made this easier, hm?” he sighed. “What do you need, Spy? You can figure our friend out later.”

“Made—made _what_ easier?” Spy glowered at both of them. He hated not knowing things, especially when he could tell those around him were already in on the secret. “I _need_ only to know what is going on!”

“You can figure it out,” the stranger prompted. “I’m not anyone on your team, and there aren’t many people around.”

“Teufort isn’t that far…” Spy mused aloud. But why would Medic have a friend who lived in Teufort, never mind having that person visit him? It didn’t make sense. He hated these kinds of guessing games. He could feel his forehead break out in a sweat, and suddenly he was a young boy again and his heart was racing… “You’re on the other team?” he blurted, desperate to say _something,_ to break the horrible silence that had filled the infirmary. It was stupid, but too late to take back.

The redhead nodded.

Medic rolled his eyes and made himself busy cleaning up his space.

He was on the right track! “ _Merde_. You…you’re the enemy Pyro.” That had to be it. He took a stumbling step back, nearly knocking over a tray of instruments. He’d come here to get away from his dreams—his _nightmares,_ he corrected himself—and yet somehow he’d stumbled directly into another one.

Pyro nodded, stifling a yawn, ignoring Spy’s clumsiness. It was incredibly early in the morning and they’d had to walk from their base to this one, as well as being put under anaesthetic. They were tired. “Can’t sleep?”

Spy shook his head numbly.

Pyro had the good grace to look a little guilty. “Sorry to surprise you, I’m sure I’m the last person you want to run into.” They continued to pick the gel out of their hair. “I know you’re good at secrets, so could you keep this one? Miss P arranged this, but I don’t think anyone else is meant to know.”

“What _are_ you doing here?” If Spy was dreaming, he might as well ask questions. No one could punish him for his curiosity in his own mind. Except himself. He still wasn’t certain enough it was a dream—despite how absolutely surreal and unlikely this situation was—to do what he really wanted. To let the Pyro know he _wasn’t_ the last person Spy wanted to see. Not at all. He wasn’t sure, or couldn’t remember, how Pyro had looked in his dream, but he certainly wasn’t disappointed by the—possibly—real thing. Maybe he should stop having a brandy before bed.

“I—” they hesitated. “I need a treatment every month or so, and my Medic doesn’t really have a medical license. So I come to your Medic instead.” That was suitably vague.

“That…makes a certain kind of sense,” Spy reluctantly agreed. He was deeply curious about what this ‘treatment’ might be, trying to piece it together from the clues that were left, but Medic had put everything away by now.

He offered a soft, genuine smile. “I’m sorry to have intruded,” he said again, meaning it this time. “He may have a medical license, but he needs to learn to _shut his door_ when treating patients, no matter what time of day it is.”

“Oh,” Medic grumbled from the other end of the infirmary. “As though you’re so perfect. _Arschloch_.”

Spy’s soft smile melted something in Pyro. They smiled back. “I’ll be out of here soon, if you need Medic.”

“N-no, it’s nothing. I simply heard voices and wanted to investigate.” Spy paused for a moment. “Do you drive?”

“No,” they admitted. “Never learned.”

“Would you like a ride back to your base?”

“Really?” Pyro was surprised. Spy and them were mortal enemies on the battlefield; they’d thought someone like Spy might take that personally.

“Why not? Did you walk here?”

“Yes.” Usually they got a ride from their Sniper, but not tonight. They stood up off their cot and had to steady themself against the frame of it. “You’re sure?”

Spy laughed gently. “Yes. You can hardly stand! Whatever that bad old man—”

Medic cleared his throat warningly.

“—did to you, you’re in no condition to walk all the way back. I’m awake, and I have a car. It’s no trouble.” He’d never thought cumming in his sleep would be a relief, but his recent ejaculation was the only reason he wasn’t iron-hard right now.

Pyro gave Medic a little smile and a wave, making sure he knew they didn’t think he was a bad doctor. Or old. Medic seemed a bit sensitive about his age. “Ok,” they agreed. “That’d be much easier.”

“Come on, then.”

“Bye, Medic, I’ll see you next month,” Pyro called.

“You rest today!” Medic said firmly.

When the Pyro stumbled again, Spy offered him an arm automatically.

They accepted it easily, leaning on him a little, but not nearly their full weight. Spy was slender and light compared to them, they didn’t want to topple him if they actually fell.

Spy guided the Pyro to his private garage, whipping the dust sheet off his car with a flourish. “I hardly drive anymore, since coming here,” he admitted. “It’s a pity, having it cooped up in here all the time.” He laughed. “And my driving is probably getting a little rusty.” The Pyro was surprisingly easy to talk to—almost too easy. Spy found he liked his company. Maybe this was a dream after all. It was certainly strange and unlikely enough to be.

Pyro stroked the side of the pretty red car. They were glad they were getting a ride, and even more glad that it was with Spy. He was definitely the most handsome man on his team, and their rivalry in battle only seemed to make their chemistry more interesting. They weren’t sure if they were misinterpreting Spy’s sweet and easy-going manner, though. Was he actually being friendly? Was he just being a spy? Surely he was revelling in seeing them without their mask, but maybe it was more than that.

“I’m surprised you haven’t put your mask on again—not that I’m complaining.” The Pyro probably wasn’t used to having his face uncovered—Spy could read his expressions like a book.

“You already saw my face.” They shrugged. “Seems silly to hide it now.” They sat in the front seat next to Spy. “And your mask looks more comfortable than mine.” They smiled.

“True. I suppose I meant more before you get back to your team. Or do they always have the pleas—do you always go unmasked with them?” Why was he flirting with the enemy Pyro? “I’m sure it is!” he agreed, stroking the soft mask absently with the back of one gloved hand as he backed the car out of the garage. “More breathable, as well—though I suppose that’s rather the point.”

“Mostly. Or with this.” They pulled a respirator out of their bag, one that covered everything from the nose down. “My old Medic made it for me; my lungs aren’t the best.” The asbestos suit they wore gave their voice a bit of a rasp. And the smoke, dust, and sprinting around in battle certainly didn’t help. The mask was part respirator, filtering out the dangerous things, and part inhaler, releasing medication whenever they grew short of breath.

They were feeling more sure now that Spy was flirting with them, and they couldn’t hide their grin. Unfortunately, they weren’t sure how far they could push things. Would he appreciate them flirting back?

Spy laughed. “Maybe I should have him make me one. My lungs are also, as you say, not the best.” He couldn’t believe he was admitting to having a weakness so casually—and to one of his greatest foes. Well, foes _here._ He had far worse foes in the outside world. “I never imagined just…talking to you.” Not entirely true, but not something he was going to admit.

And yet… The Pyro’s face was so open, so guileless, and Spy didn’t think he was imagining the fact that Pyro was flirting back.

“I do talk to you,” Pyro pointed out. “You just don’t usually understand.” They yelled a lot of things during battle, and mostly no one knew what they were saying.

“I suppose you do. You could be saying anything, really, couldn’t you? I’ve never seen our—my—Pyro mask-less. Interesting that I would see you first—though it sounds like you spend more time with your face uncovered.”

They were getting close to the RED base now, and Pyro looked about for any of their teammates before putting a hand on Spy’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “Thanks. For the ride. Maybe I’ll see you again next month. You know, I mean, I see you almost every day but…” Their face went a little red. “You know.”

Spy raised his hand without thinking and placed it on top of the Pyro’s, just for an instant, before pulling it away again as though burned. _Mmm. Poor choice of…thoughts._ At least he was wearing his gloves.

“I know.” He gave Pyro a gentle smile to ease their all-too-clear embarrassment. Being with a partner as open and readable as that… Everything else—including attraction—aside, that was a very desirable quality to Spy. Not that this little flirtation could go anywhere. It was absurd, completely impractical, deranged. He couldn’t even consider it.

Still, he heard his voice add, “I’d like that.”

“Me too.” They hopped out of the car, affixed their respirator, and waved goodbye to the BLU Spy.

Spy waved back over his shoulder as he drove away.

Somehow, he didn’t think the dreams were going to stop any time soon.

He immediately returned to the infirmary once he had parked his car at his own base.

Medic had been just finishing up the paperwork for Pyro’s procedure when Spy came in. He groaned. “Did something happen?”

“‘Did something happen?’” Spy repeated incredulously. “Perhaps you should tell me that, mm?”

“They’re alright, then?” He sounded annoyed now. “What do you need?”

“They?” Spy was beginning to feel like a parrot.

“Yes. Pyro prefers ‘they’ over ‘he’ or ‘she.’ I suppose it adds to the mystery? I don’t know.”

“Oh. That’s…good to know, thank you.” Spy shook his head fondly. “Somehow I don’t think h— _they—_ are doing it to be mysterious.” He shut the door, pointedly. “I think it’s more fucking important that the enemy Pyro is, what, flitting about through our base once a month, under _your_ care, and you didn’t see fit to tell anyone?”

“I was instructed to keep it quiet,” he said, shuffling his papers into some semblance of order and tucking them away in a file. “Just because the other Medic is an incurable gossip doesn’t mean I am.”

“More’s the pity.” Spy lit a cigarette.

Medic gave him an unimpressed look. “What do you want?”

Fuck. What _did_ he want, or at least, what was he willing to tell Medic he wanted? “Nothing.” He turned on his heel and left, leaving a trail of smoke behind him.

 

***

 

All through battle the next day, Spy couldn’t help picturing the Pyro’s face beneath their mask. That charming, expressive face with its dusting of freckles and pert little nose and fuck he was lusting after the Pyro. The _enemy_ Pyro.

He withdrew from the front lines. A lower score for the day was a price he was prepared to pay for a bit of distance between them, and he could always intercept enemies returning to the fray from respawn. He wasn’t standing completely idle.

 

***

 

Pyro saw far less of Spy during their next battle. They couldn’t help but wonder why. Was it something to do with them? With having met them without their mask? Spy was their favourite part of battle; they hoped this wasn’t a permanent change.

A little dejected, they headed back in after work.

 

***

 

After a few days Spy grew bored, out of the main action, and he returned to raiding the enemy base.

Seeing the Pyro’s face changed nothing. Having spoken to them changed nothing. They fought, they died—sometimes one, sometimes the other. That was all. Nothing had changed.

For their part, Pyro was glad things had returned to normal, but couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed since they’d met— _really_ met—each other


	2. Friday October 11th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet again

**Friday October 11th**

Medic was getting quite sick of seeing Spy early every morning—or even worse, _not_ seeing him, but knowing he was about, waiting and watching. He’d initially refused to let Spy know when Pyro would be returning, but now he was beginning to see that Spy intended to stake out his office until the fire-starter returned.

He saw his door open just the slightest inch and sighed. “Spy. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with our enemy patient, but since you seem to be so serious about this, you can pick them up tomorrow morning and bring them here. At two am.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spy told him, decloaking anyway. “But fine. I can do this. As a favour for _you,_ of course.”

“Of course,” he said, deadpan. Medic wasn’t 100% sure what Spy wanted with the enemy Pyro, but his intentions didn’t seem to be bad.

  

**Saturday October 12th**

Spy arrived early the next day, parking in front of the main entrance to the RED base. He wasn’t terribly concerned about any other REDs finding him at this time of day, and even if they did, both teams were fairly lenient about visiting members of the enemy team. It was an open secret that the RED Soldier and BLU Demo spent their furloughs together.

Pyro had gotten Medic’s message about getting a ride, and they had to admit it was exciting, knowing that Spy wanted to spend more time with them. They smiled when they saw Spy’s car, taking off their respirator and hopping in. They were wearing the same kind of baggy clothes as before—as they usually did out of uniform—things that seemed at least a size too large for them, including big hooded sweatshirt. “Morning, Spy.” They were curious to find out why Spy had offered to give them a ride when he could have been sleeping like a sensible person.

“Morning, Pyro. Fancy meeting you here.” _Fancy meeting you here_? Fuck, why had he said that?

Pyro just laughed. “Do you not sleep, or did you just feel particularly generous about giving me a ride?”

“Yes, I don’t sleep,” Spy agreed wryly, pulling away from the RED base with a plume of dirt flying behind him. He drove faster and more daringly than he might have normally for a simple jaunt between the bases. Not that he was trying to impress Pyro.

Pyro seemed to revel in the speed, as Spy had expected. “No, really. I understand giving me a ride back, that’s closer to a normal time for people to be awake, but it’s practically the middle of the night.”

Spy shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to spend more time with you,” he said, openly flirtatious and hoping he hadn’t badly misread the situation.

Pyro’s smile was a little slower this time. They were momentarily tongue-tied. “More time than just a ride back and forth between bases?” they suggested.

“Mm, perhaps,” Spy said, backing off a little in response to Pyro’s hesitation. “But I am also content to simply drive you there and back. To make sure no harm comes to you.”

“I appreciate that,” they said. “I’m going to be not much fun today, but... another day?”

“I’d like that.” Spy nodded. “If you’d like to get off-base for a while, we could go to…well, I suppose the diner in Teufort is really the only option,” he laughed.

“Yeah, there’s not much around,” they agreed. “I’d like that.”

They pulled into the BLU base’s garage, and Pyro was suddenly a little sad they had gone so fast. It meant their time together had been shorter too.

“I’ll be in this vicinity, smoking. Come and find me when you’re finished, and I’ll give you a ride back.” Spy wanted, very badly, to ask what sort of treatment Pyro needed so urgently they were willing to go to the other team’s Medic, but he held his tongue.

“I hope you don’t think your bad lungs are some kind of mystery,” Pyro laughed, heading in before they could hear Spy’s response.

“Rude!” Spy called after them, laughing and shaking his head. “Smoking _helps_ my lungs!” He leaned against the hood of his car and smoked while watching the sun rise. He tried to sort through his thoughts and desires about the RED—he couldn’t think of them as the enemy anymore, not outside of battle—Pyro, but he’d never been very good at analyzing his own, _genuine_ emotions. He wanted them to hurt him, sexually. He was fairly certain they returned at least his sexual interest, and he wouldn’t be at all surprised if they found fire erotic. So far, everything was lining up nicely. They’d have a date—ugh—in _Teufort_ —double ugh—and go from there. Maybe, hopefully, after talking to them some more, Spy would lose interest. Or they would, for that matter.

It was two hours later, around 4 am, when Pyro finally came back. They looked tired, dazed maybe. There was a little Band-Aid on the back of their hand and more of that sticky gel in their hair. “Did you just smoke for two hours?” they teased, leaning against the car a little.

“I’m French. I could smoke for days,” Spy teased back. Once again, he looked for and took in the small clues about Pyro’s mysterious ‘treatment,’ but he was sure he was subtle enough that they hadn’t noticed, and he didn’t ask anything.

Laughing, they got back in the car. As they’d predicted, their energy had certainly dipped and their comments were far sleepier than before.

“He’s…taking good care of you?” Spy asked tentatively. He didn’t want to pry, but he also didn’t like that Pyro seemed more drained after than before this ‘treatment.’

Pyro smiled, nodding. “It’s… it helps with my mood,” they explained, a little shyly. “If I don’t have it, I get depressed.”

Spy nodded. “I don’t want to say something as trite as ‘I understand,’ but I hope you’ll believe me when I say, well…I understand. I’m glad it helps. You just look even more tired than you did before.”

“You can ask Medic about it, if you want.” They weren’t sure they could, or wanted to, explain it to Spy. They knew they were definitely abnormal, but they weren’t sure how much of that they wanted Spy to know about. He seemed interested in them, flirting with them, setting a date with them, and they didn’t want to ruin that by being too honest too soon. Not that they were great at keeping secrets for long, but they weren’t sure when to reveal certain details. They’d told Medic before they left that he could answer any of Spy’s questions, feeling fairly sure he _would_ be asking questions.

And they did believe he understood. Spy seemed like the kind of person who’d been through a lot of difficult things, and they knew that even if people _hadn’t_ been through difficult things they could still be sad. “He takes good care of me. Better than my Medic would.”

“Good. If not, let me know and I’ll correct him,” Spy offered, smiling back. He’d consider Pyro’s offer carefully. Yes, Pyro had given him permission to ask Medic about it, but maybe he didn’t want to know, not yet. He was burning with curiosity, but even with permission he still found himself strangely reluctant to probe further.

“Very protective,” they commented, with a smile.

“I can be,” Spy confirmed, leaving _for those I care about_ unspoken.

When they got back to the RED base, Pyro leaned over in their seat, looking up at Spy, uncertain if he’d close the distance.

He was genuinely surprised when Pyro leaned over in clear expectation of a kiss, and he hadn’t thought Pyro _could_ surprise him. He was both impressed and mildly displeased by this revelation, but that didn’t stop him from moving in closer. Just in case he was wrong, he left a small space between them for Pyro to make the final move if they wanted.

Pyro saw that Spy had the same hesitation they did, making sure it was mutual before going through with it, so they pressed in closer, putting an arm around his neck and pressing their lips together.

In all his dreams and fantasies, Spy had never imagined them starting out with a simple kiss. It was probably a far better beginning than the ones he’d imagined—though he did like that Pyro grabbed him and took control, even so gently. Pyro’s lips were chapped but plush, and he eagerly leaned into it. He hesitated on the edge of telling Pyro they could be rougher with him, but decided this was probably enough of a first step.

Pyro gave a soft hum into the kiss before pulling away. Nose to nose with Spy, they seemed to soak in the moment for a second.

They wanted to ask almost the same things Spy wanted to tell them. They wanted to warn him that fire was _absolutely_ entwined with their sexuality. They wanted to let him know that this wasn’t going to be a sweet and gentle relationship if they did end up going that way. Maybe a kiss was too careful a way to start, but it had been sort of a spur of the moment thing. They’d wanted to, so they did it.

“So.” Spy was breathing a little heavily, pulse racing. He expected his pupils would be enormous if he looked in the rear-view mirror. “How would you like to contact me when you’re ready for our, ah…date? Slip me a note during battle?” he asked, half-teasing.

“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” they said, suggestively. “I’ll be more myself by then. What time were you thinking?”

“I prefer to sleep in, personally. How does two o’clock sound?” Spy hoped he’d been able to hide his little frisson of excitement hidden.

They nodded. “I’ll meet you at the fence?” Two o’clock would mean everyone would be awake and about, and they didn’t want to cause a fuss. The fence was between the two bases.

“That sounds splendid. _À bientôt.”_ He blew a playful kiss at Pyro as they got out of the car.

Pyro reaffixed their respirator as they headed in, waving back at Spy. Dawn was just beginning to light the sky behind their base.


	3. Sunday October 13th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a trigger warning for PTSD in this chapter, just to be safe. we also update the tags as needed!

**Sunday October 13th**

Spy had worried he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night, but after a heady, anticipatory wank, he fell asleep almost immediately. He woke around noon, had a shower, scrounged in the kitchen for leftovers from both breakfast and lunch, then read in his smoking room until it was time to leave. A final check in the mirror to make sure he looked perfect—he did, and he headed to the garage and drove to meet Pyro.

Pyro met him out at the fence, dressed much the same as yesterday: fatigues for pants, and a too-big hooded sweatshirt in a nearly bubblegum pink colour. They had sewn a few patches onto it—a unicorn, a little flower, and a strange round patch that said ‘I am harmless’ with a smile in the middle of the words.

“I like your outfit.” Spy got out of the car for a closer look at the patches, standing close to Pyro but still at a slight distance for them to close or not as they chose. He suspected this set of clothing said as much about Pyro as the fire-suit did, and he found himself eager to learn more about both halves. Well, he certainly knew more about one half than the other already, but…differently.

Spy wore a suit of similar cut and quality to his uniform, but black rather than blue.

Pyro closed the distance to squeeze Spy’s hand, smiling. “Thanks.” Most people found their way of dressing a bit bizarre, but mostly no one said anything. They both got back in the car, heading for Teufort. “So, did you talk to Medic yesterday?”

Pleased, Spy squeezed back. “As a matter of fact, I didn’t,” he told Pyro once they were moving.

“I thought spies were more curious than that.” They grinned. “Most of them have been, anyway.”

“Oh? Have you known many spies?” Spy grinned back. “There, is that better?” He shrugged. “You’ve told me enough, and even though you said you don’t mind if I ask…I can’t help but feel it’s because you’d rather he told me so I don’t attempt to find out on my own, rather than actually _wanting_ me to know.”

“I’ve known lots of spies,” they said. “I’ve been a Pyro for a long time. A few spies have come and gone in that time, on both teams. Plus, I know Miss P. As for Medic… maybe I just thought it’d be easier to not have that conversation myself. Maybe that was a bit cowardly of me.”

That suggested that Miss Pauling was—or at least had been—a Spy. This was interesting, but it could be dealt with later. For now, his attention was on Pyro. “I don’t think it’s cowardly. There are plenty of things I would rather not have to say myself—though there also aren’t many people who could tell them for me,” he laughed. _“Eh bien,_ maybe that just means I’m a coward, too.”

At least when he was driving, Spy couldn’t really look at them when they talked about it. “It’s electroshock therapy,” they admitted, slightly ashamed to come out and admit they were mentally ill.

Spy couldn’t help a flinch of surprise, horror, and revulsion when Pyro revealed what their treatment was, and he hoped they didn’t notice. Truthfully, he could probably have pieced it together from what he’d seen, but maybe part of him hadn’t wanted to fully connect the dots. Fuck. He should have asked Medic. He should have found out some other way, not from Pyro themself.

Pyro did notice the little flinch. “Sorry, I know it’s not really a popular thing these days, I know it has a bad reputation, but it helps.” They watched Spy’s reaction carefully. “I started it almost fifteen years ago.”

“N-no, it’s not that,” Spy rushed to reassure them, pale and sweating beneath his mask. He swallowed hard, tasting bile in his mouth. “I’m sorry, I know you just told me something very personal and I reacted badly, _mais c’est ne pas_ … _Merde_. It is nothing to do with you.” His breathing sped up, getting dangerously fast, and he pulled over before his panic could rise any more. He’d misjudged their speed and the car slid off the shoulder onto the sandy dirt beside the road. He felt so helpless and ashamed, but he couldn’t stop himself. He folded his hands on top of the steering wheel, then rested his forehead on top of it. “ _Je m’excuse_. I am sorry, I’m so fucking sorry,” he murmured, barely audible even in the silence of the car.

Pyro’s hands were on him almost immediately, one on his back, rubbing soothing circles, the other on his shoulder, as though to steady him. “Hey, it’s ok, we’re ok. Whatever scared you, it’s ok. It happens. Just breathe for a bit. I can get out if you need me to, if you need me to leave.”

Spy shook his head urgently, turning to look at Pyro but unable to speak for a moment. He leaned into Pyro’s touch, his breathing returning to normal as enough of his brain engaged to practice some of the calming exercises he’d been taught. “ _Non_. Don’t go.” His voice was still tight. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t go.”

“I won’t, I’m here,” Pyro assured him, then they said nothing for a time, just holding him. They knew better than to tell him to calm down. Spy’s fear and anxiety was familiar to them, having lived with mercenaries all their life. They had seen meltdowns far worse than this—they could see Spy was already taking deeper breaths, was slowing down a little.

After a final long, rolling shiver down his spine, Spy abruptly straightened, staring straight ahead. He shifted and resettled his shoulders, setting them high and stiff. His hands were very precise on the wheel, fingers flexed so only the tips made contact. “ _Je—_ “ He shook his head. “I—” He couldn’t get more than one word out at a time around the lump in his throat. He tilted his neck, first one way, then the other, swallowed hard, cleared his throat, and tried again. “I can take you back now.”

“Alright,” Pyro agreed, a little disappointed but not wanting to show it. They weren’t sure if Spy was doing this for himself or because he thought that was what they would want. “But I’m ok, if you want to sit.” They didn’t want to put pressure on him towards them going out if that was too much for him. “It’s ok,” they repeated.

Spy remained frozen for a moment, then impulsively leaned over to rest his head on Pyro’s soft, warm shoulder. He sniffed, hating himself for this weakness, then asked, “It helps?”

They wrapped their arm around him, drawing him in close. For a moment, they weren’t sure what he meant, until they remembered they had said those words about their treatment. It was the thought of that treatment that had started this, and Pyro didn’t want to know why the idea of being electrocuted would make Spy act this way. “It helps. And I don’t feel anything, there’s anaesthetic,” they assured him.

Spy laughed, more a sharp exhalation than a sound of amusement. “Fuck. Anaesthetic,” he repeated, slowly, numbly. “Yes, that would make a difference.” He shook his head, lifted it, managed to give Pyro a rather sickly grin. “I’m glad it helps. Thank you. For telling me.” He laughed again, this time a little stronger. “Despite my…reaction, I _am_ glad you told me.” He reached into his pocket for his cigarette case, then remembered what Pyro had said about their lungs. “Would you prefer if I smoke outside? I don’t want to hurt you.”

Pyro smiled a little, glad Spy seemed to be doing better. “…I actually smoke too,” they admitted. “I’m just not supposed to.”

“What?” Now Spy’s laugh rang out genuinely. “Are you not the same person who scolded me for smoking yesterday?” He tapped a cigarette out of his case, paused a moment, then withdrew a second one and offered it to Pyro.

“Yes. I never said I didn’t smoke. And I didn’t _scold_ you, I just said that’s why your lungs are bad.” They grinned, taking the cigarette. There was immediately a lighter in their hand, pulled out of their pocket, and they seemed to take a slow breath as they lit it. They lit their own cigarette, and then offered the little flame to Spy.

“Hypocrite,” Spy teased, feeling almost normal again. He shook his head at the lighter, instead moving in to light his cigarette from Pyro’s once they had it glowing steadily.

Pyro gave a slow sigh. They didn’t put the lighter away, though they did close it, extinguishing the little fire. They stroked their thumb along the metal of it, with something like affection.

The fine hairs on Spy’s arms stood on end when he saw the expression on Pyro’s face as they stroked the lighter, with a delicious mixture of fear and excitement. He wanted that fucking look directed at _him._ He wanted that fire to touch him. For a brief, mad instant he considered pressing the back of his hand to Pyro’s cigarette, but he forced himself to lean back in his seat, head back, and smoke. They sat in silence for a while, then Spy came to a decision.

“There’s a reason I took this job, now, you know,” he said, as casually as he could. “I’ve been offered it before and always turned it down.” His noticed his breathing speeding up again and took a long drag, exhaling the smoke and watching it curl upwards and flatten across the roof of the car. “You told me something very personal, and…and if we’re going to…well. I feel that I can at the very least do the same.” He shook his head. “I am , ah…” he faltered, trying to come up with the English word, “ruined for field work. That’s the simplest explanation. I came here because I’m a failure in…” he waved a hand, “…the real world.” He hoped that Pyro would be able to make the connection, deduce what he wasn’t quite coming out and saying so he wouldn’t have to actually speak the words.

Pyro shook their head. “I don’t think having something traumatic happen to you has ruined you. I think it made your work much harder.” They stroked a hand over Spy’s arm. “But this place is good for that. It makes things simpler.” They laughed, flicking the lighter on with one hand. “And I know this place isn’t exactly… real, but it’s been most of my life.” They shrugged. “I don’t think it’s bad to want to be somewhere safer.”

“Maybe that’s what I need right now,” Spy agreed, watching Pyro light and extinguish the flame with interest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that what you do—what _we_ do,” he amended, “isn’t real. That was rude of me.”

“No, I know it’s not… well, it’s not normal. It’s safer than most jobs, if you don’t mind kind-of dying a lot. And kind-of killing a lot. I… I grew up around one of the older teams. I’ve been in respawn since I was a kid.” The world outside of the team, outside of RED and BLU, seemed strange and distant to them. Their only real-world interactions were in Teufort. They never travelled on furlough; they always felt like they’d get lost and never find their way back.

Spy nodded. Pyro’s voice was a welcome distraction from the dark thoughts circling his mind. He smiled. “You may have noticed, but I’m not exactly ‘normal,’ myself. And I wouldn’t want to be,” he added, with an exaggerated expression of distaste. “Abnormal is…preferable.” He stroked a hand over Pyro’s upper arm, lingering. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” they said, earnestly. Each time they spoke, they took the cigarette out of their mouth. They liked to be able to speak clearly when they didn’t have their mask on. With their other hand they kept playing with the lighter, almost without seeming to notice they were doing it.

“You’re clearly not French,” Spy laughed, watching Pyro take the cigarette out of their mouth and put it back in over and over—while keeping his own perfectly in place. “Though your hair and complexion do suggest otherwise as well.” He reached out, slowly and cautiously, and stroked Pyro’s freckled cheek with his gloved thumb when they didn’t pull away.

They leaned into his hand, smiling at him. They said nothing about where they were from. Their accent didn’t exactly give away where they were from, either. It was a mishmash of a few different accents that they had picked up from team members, both as a child and as a mercenary. They kind of liked that their accent gave nothing away.

“We…don’t have to go back,” Spy offered, “if you don’t want to.” He let his hand slide down Pyro’s chin to their shoulder, then down their arm to the hand holding the lighter, giving in to his dark desire. He let his thumb hover over the flame, close enough for it to hurt but far enough that it wouldn’t leave a burn, his eyes fixed on Pyro’s. He could actually see Pyro’s pupils dilate.

They took in a quick breath. “You’d want that? You’d let me burn you?” Spy apparently did know what they wanted, and seemed to want it too.

Spy nodded, delighted by the response he’d gotten. He shifted his thighs a little to adjust his cock.

They licked their lips, looking Spy over for a moment. Most of his skin was covered, and his uniform covered a lot too, so marks wouldn’t really be an issue. Putting the cigarette between their lips and flicking their lighter off and leaving it in their lap, they pushed up Spy’s sleeve with an inquisitive look at him.

Spy nodded again. His breath quickened, but this time he knew he wasn’t about to have another panic attack. Far from it. He held out his arm eagerly, pushing the sleeve of his suit jacket up a little higher and unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt to roll it out of the way. He was able to undo the small buttons with his gloves on—practice.

Bare skin revealed, Pyro took their cigarette back in their fingers and held it close to Spy’s unprotected inner forearm, waiting for a nod, some sign that Spy would allow this, before continuing.

“Yes,” Spy gasped, a breath of relief between his lips, his arm inching closer to the cigarette with longing.

Pyro ground out the hot tip of the cigarette against Spy’s arm, their free hand holding his wrist tight so he couldn’t flinch away.

“Yes!” Spy repeated, high and ecstatic now. His eyes fluttered shut and his head snapped back, his throat a column. He couldn’t help jerking away in response to the burn, relieved to find that Pyro had already considered this and countered the movement. He pulled harder, not because he wanted to get away, but just to feel the resistance. He could feel the strength in Pyro’s hand, suspected they could crush his comparatively delicate bones if they wished.

Pyro groaned. The cigarette was out quickly, but they loved the perfectly round marks they left, the burn itself stained black with ashy residue. They had plenty of their own cigarette burns. They flicked their rather crushed cigarette out the open window, grabbing Spy’s from his lips and making another burn close to the first.

The cigarette stuck to Spy’s lip for a moment, leaving a tender, raw spot, but he didn’t mind or even notice as soon as he realized what they were doing. He cried out wordlessly, trying to jerk free a little more earnestly now, but relieved when Pyro didn’t let go.

The second cigarette followed the first, and then their lighter was in their hand again, flicked open, flint wheel turned and flame flickering.

Spy stared down at the two matching burns, panting, then grinned up at Pyro.

Pyro grinned back. Twisting Spy’s arm just so, Pyro pressed the tip of the flame against his skin, drawing a line in fire beneath the other two burns.

“Ah!” This was a bit more than Spy had been expecting, and he tried to pull away harder, but Pyro kept him firmly in place. His cock was so hard; he could feel a tiny patch of spreading dampness at the tip.

Satisfied, Pyro pulled the lighter away and closed it, looking at Spy’s burns with a little smirk. The cigarette burns had become the eyes of a smiley face.

Raising an eyebrow, Spy looked down at his arm with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. He snorted at what he saw, shaking his head in fond rebuke. “I suppose I’m not surprised. It’s very…whimsical.” It didn’t really matter what Pyro burned into him. It felt good, and it would easily be covered by his sleeves.

Pyro smiled, leaning over into Spy’s space and pulling him into a kiss. There was a bit of teeth to it this time; it wasn’t quite as gentle or sweet as their first one.

Spy melted against Pyro, eyes closed. This, _this_ was what he wanted. He was so pleased and relieved that he liked real-Pyro as much as dream-Pyro. Probably more.

Their thumb found Spy’s burns as they kissed, pressing down into them to see how he reacted to the pain.

Eyes snapping open to meet Pyro’s, Spy gasped into the kiss. He rocked his arm back and forth, encouragingly, rubbing Pyro’s thumb across the burns.

Pyro pulled away from the kiss, panting, keeping their grip tight, their thumbnail digging into Spy’s already red and painful skin. “I wasn’t sure you’d let me do this to you.”

“I was hoping you’d do this to me,” Spy admitted, eyes half-lidded with pleasure, staring down at the burn Pyro was tormenting.

“I’m glad, because I love doing this.” They moved their hand to dig their fingernails into the burns, scratching at Spy mercilessly. They wanted more, but the confines of the car made it difficult, and so did Spy’s clothing.

“Funny, I never would have guessed,” Spy teased. He could see the frustration clouding Pyro’s face, and he reached out with his free hand to stroke Pyro’s arm, bringing their attention back to him. “What do you want, _cher?”_ he asked, between gasps of pleasure as Pyro raked the highly sensitive burn.

“I want to be in bed with you,” they said, honestly. “The car might not be the best place for this.”

 _“Non, ce n’est pas idéal,”_ Spy agreed, his brain foggy enough that he didn’t realize he’d slipped into French. He considered which was closer, their bases or Teufort, then turned on the car with trembling hands.

“Where are we going?” Pyro giggled. They assumed it was somewhere with a bed. They knew a little French, and was pretty sure they knew what Spy had said.

“Teufort is closer. If that works for you?”

Pyro nodded, fiddling with their lighter as Spy drove. “You’re alright to drive?” they asked, noticing how his hands still shook.

Following Pyro’s gaze, Spy laughed. “Yes, I am.”

“I’m shaking for very different reasons now. Though that lighter is fucking distracting,” he purred.

“Oh, good.” They smiled a little, continuing to toy with their lighter until they pulled into Teufort.

“Thank you, very fucking helpful,” Spy groused, rolling his eyes with a grin. He screeched into the parking lot of Teufort’s miserable little motel, then paused with his fingers on the door handle. “Do we need, ah…anything?” it finally occurred to him to ask. He had lube and condoms in his car, but he wasn’t sure if they’d need either. Or both.

“No?” Pyro said, though their voice lifted as though it was a question. They weren’t 100% sure what he meant by ‘anything.’

“Right.” Spy discreetly grabbed a handful of condoms and a bottle of lube and pocketed them. “I’ll go get us a room. Do you want to come with me, or wait here?”

“Wait.” They waited until Spy returned, then followed him to the door that matched the number on his key. They had butterflies in their stomach now, as they closed the door behind them. Before it had just been spur of the moment, it had been almost mindless. Now, there were moments of waiting and thinking and they could only hope they were doing the right thing. They didn’t want to stop, not at all, but they did worry a little about what this would mean eventually.

Spy gave Pyro a comforting pat on the arm and a reassuring smile when he saw their obvious distress. He was worried that, now that the initial frenzy was over, they’d changed their mind. He rolled up his sleeve enough to show one ‘eye’ of the smiling face and part of the curve of the mouth, stroking the fresh burns with one finger.

He certainly hadn’t.

Pyro saw Spy had rolled up his sleeve again and they hummed softly with anticipation. They wanted to burn him again, and dig their fingernails into his burns, and go as far as he allowed them to. After making sure the door was locked, they pushed Spy towards the bed.

Spy allowed Pyro to pull him in and onto the bed. He fell flat on his back, unresisting, bouncing a few times before coming to rest. His eyes never left Pyro.

Spotting a little book of matches with the motel’s logo on it, they tossed it on the bed next to Spy. Straddling him, they unbuttoned his jacket and shirt, baring his chest. They could feel his erection pressing against their thigh through their clothes and they ground their hips down against him. They grabbed the book of matches and struck one. It took them two strikes—the matches weren’t very good quality—but once it was lit they stilled a little, holding it over Spy’s body until the flame grew long. When it was nearly to their fingertips, they just dropped it on him.

Spy cried out, quickly muffling himself with an arm thrown across his face. It was his burned arm, which only made him cry out again, louder, before he switched. His hips bucked and jerked, frantically grinding his erection against Pyro. His eyes were wide and wild beneath his forearm, but he definitely didn’t want Pyro to stop.

Pyro’s flat palm extinguished the last of the little flame. The blister left behind was round and so soft against their fingertips as they felt it delicately. Spy was still rock hard and though he cried out with pain, he didn’t complain about it, so they lit another match, grinding this one out in the hollow of his shoulder. They slid back off his thighs and gave his belt a tug, getting off the bed entirely to start stripping off their own clothes.

This time Spy’s cry was even wilder. His arm jerked away from his mouth, scrabbling to find something to hold onto on the smooth wooden false headboard. After a few heaving breaths, he managed to sit up and undo his trousers, wriggling out of them. He barely hesitated before shedding his briefs as well. He lay flat again, waiting for Pyro’s next move.

He had noticeable electrical burn scars, Pyro saw. They had experienced enough burns in their life to know the difference between different sources, and after how Spy had reacted to learning about their treatment, they hardly had to guess at what had caused those old injuries. The burns were all long healed.

Pyro stripped down to nothing, revealing muscular arms and thighs, curvy hips, and—though their chest was nearly flat—definite breasts. Their freckled skin was covered in pink-and-white burn scars, in various stages of healing. They stumbled getting out of their pants. Resuming their position on top of Spy, this time when they lit the match they let it burn at their own skin before they stubbed it out on Spy.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Spy breathed, shaking his head slowly. He gave a soft huff of laughter. “Should I be relieved that you don’t spare yourself the same treatment?” he asked, once he’d come down from the new burn enough to speak.

“Maybe.” They sounded out of breath, and their chest was heaving with excitement. They were going through the book of matches quite quickly, and knew eventually they’d have to switch to their lighter. They hadn’t brought their own matches, hadn’t thought their day would go like this.

Spy pressed up against them, trembling when they put fire to his skin, rolling his hips when he had the control to do so, and they did the same, letting him slide up against them. Each time they pressed the fire to their own skin they could feel themself throb against him. With the most recent match still dying on Spy’s abdomen, they leaned over him, pinning his hands to the bed to force him to ride out the pain for as long as the match took to go out.

Spy writhed and squirmed just to feel the strength in Pyro’s arms keeping him in place. He was breathing heavily, almost panting, when he realized he was in danger of blowing out the little flame. He forced himself to slow his breathing, directing it away from the fire. “Please, _please,”_ he begged, not entirely sure himself what he was asking for.

Pyro groaned, finally pressing the length of their body to Spy’s, extinguishing the little flame between their skin.

“Oh god, oh fuck…!” Spy gasped, jerking against Pyro’s grip. He wanted to wrap his arms around them and pull them closer, but they wouldn’t let him. “Pyro, Pyro, it’s so good, don’t stop!” He felt giddy and weightless, grinning up at them stupidly. His feet twitched, but Pyro was securely holding his legs in place too. He rutted against Pyro, blindly seeking friction on his cock to match the pleasure of the burns.

Pyro let the fire cool a little between them before sitting up on their knees, working their fingers into themself for a few moments, looking down at Spy as they did. It wasn’t long before they took Spy’s cock in their hand to guide him in. Their head tipped back as he slid deeper and they let their body come down flush to Spy’s, until he was buried as deep as he could go inside them. “Fuck,” they said, breathlessly.

“Fuck,” Spy agreed, looking almost in awe. Before he allowed the pleasure to overtake him completely, he couldn’t help tipping his head at a slight angle and asking, “There’s no chance you could, ah…?”

Pyro tilted their head in a similar way, waiting for Spy to elaborate. They couldn’t keep themself still, however, rolling their hips ever so slowly.

“Later,” Spy decided aloud. It was strange how Pyro could suddenly go from open and expressive to the mask-like blankness he was so much more accustomed to seeing, and then back.

He let Pyro take control, reaching up to lightly rest his hands on Pyro’s sides. “You feel so good,” he murmured, shifting his hips ever so slightly in response to Pyro’s movements. _“These_ feel so good,” he added, indicating the burns on his chest with a nod.

“You feel amazing.” Their voice was breathy. They grabbed his arm where they had first burnt him, twisting it down to the bed with their fingernails buried in the cigarette burns. The other hand explored the rest of Spy’s burns, varying between soft and affectionate to raking their fingernails over them. Their entire body trembled around Spy as they rode him, slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed.

Spy’s body rocked and shook as waves of pain and pleasure crashed over him. “Pyro,” he gasped, the syllables broken by gasps, “ _Je—_ “ He shook his head. “I-I’m not going to fucking last…” he reluctantly admitted. He’d never been undone this thoroughly, taken completely apart by a sexual act, especially so swiftly. “ _Je vais durer, merde, je vais durer_ ,” he assured them, shaking his head, “ _m_ _ais… Non_ . Are you…close?” Everything felt good, _so_ good, and while he didn’t want it to stop he also knew he was close to losing control completely.

They nodded. They were close, they knew one more burn could push them over the edge, but they didn’t want this to end! They felt so good, everything felt so good, and they just wanted to feel like this forever.

They rode Spy hard, and they could see him holding himself back, struggling under them as he came closer and closer to his climax. They lit the last match in the book and, as the flame grew, they raised themself up so only the head of Spy’s cock was still in them. They pressed the fire to the underside of their thigh, where their skin met Spy’s, and let it burn there for a few seconds. As it burnt them both, they slid back down, Spy’s cock completely buried in them. “Fuck!” Their head fell back and one hand went between their spread thighs to stroke at their clit in almost frenzied motions. Their cries grew louder and louder as they came, until they trembled silently, gasping for breath, looking down at Spy.

Spy screamed, high and wordless, then sank his teeth into his lip both to stifle any further sounds and to help himself last just a few more seconds, until he was sure Pyro had climaxed. They could probably go more than once—often he could, too, but now he was totally, utterly spent. He didn’t even think he could lift his head. If they needed more, he’d have to use his hands or mouth.

Pyro gave a slow breath, carefully lowering themself onto Spy’s chest to rest. They groaned as he softened in them, and for awhile they both just lay there, panting.

Finally, Pyro rolled off Spy to lie by his side, stroking their fingers over all the burns they’d left.

“Fuck.” Spy shivered. “Why does that feel so good?” He’d enjoyed receiving—and, on occasion, giving—pain in the past, including burns, but he’d never felt this...transcendent...from it before.

They just shrugged, still breathless. “I’ve never really been able to answer that question,” they laughed.

Spy snorted. “No, I suppose not. In that case, let it suffice to say…it does feel good.”

Pyro nodded, resting against Spy’s shoulder lazily. They felt tired, in a very pleasant sort of way. Their arms felt heavy and they didn’t want to do anything but rest. It was only late afternoon, but they really wanted a nap. It wasn’t long before their eyes were drifting shut.

“You don’t mind falling asleep here?” Spy murmured. “No one will wonder where you are?”

“Mm,” they hummed, not particularly worried. They trusted Spy enough to sleep with him, and they trusted their own internal clock to wake them up well before battle time.

Spy couldn’t help feeling that it was a little sad, that Pyro had spent their whole life here and no one would notice if they were gone. He was probably just feeling emotional from sex, he decided. He felt Pyro go limp beside him, and soon they were snoring softly. He reached up to stroke their hair, just long enough to feel soft rather than bristly.

Despite himself, Spy’s eyes began to close and he curled around Pyro. Just before he fell asleep, he traced the new burns on his chest with his free hand.

 


	4. Monday October 14th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy is not an early bird

**Monday, October 14th**

Pyro woke early, as they always did. It was six am, according to the clock, and they sat up, stretching. Spy was still asleep and they looked down at him affectionately. He’d slept in his mask, but it was just slightly crooked and they could see a couple locks of silvery-black hair peeking out. They carefully brushed it back under his mask.

“What time is it?” Spy groaned, voice hoarse and raspy with sleep. He felt up to where Pyro had touched him and groaned again—he hated sleeping in his mask. “Do I have time for a shower? I can drive very fast.”

“Yes, there’s time. It’s early.” Pyro bent to kiss his temple. “We’ll have time to drive back to base and do everything we need to do.” Their team might miss them at breakfast, seeing as they were usually the one cooking it, but—with the possible exception of Scout—they were all adults; they could get their own breakfasts. And if they noticed Pyro had been off base, well, they doubted it would be a big deal. Still, the thought of someone objecting to the idea of them seeing an enemy on the weekend gave them a twinge in their stomach. If they got reported, if there was a problem with it, they knew, without question, they would choose their work over Spy. They liked Spy, had thoroughly enjoyed burning him and riding him, but if they didn’t work here, what would they do with themself?

“I need to _sleep,”_ Spy protested, but he forced himself to sit up and then swing his legs off the side of the bed while doing a brief inventory. Not only had he slept in his mask, but in the unbuttoned—but not removed—suit jacket and shirt. He usually slept in an undershirt if he wore anything, so no wonder he didn’t feel at all well rested—unfamiliar bed, unfamiliar partner, half dressed…

He saw something strange cross Pyro’s transparent face, something he couldn’t quite read, but he didn’t pry. “How are you so cheerful and alert?”

“I’m always up at six.” They gave him a smile, getting up and heading towards the shower.

“That’s it, I’m calling this off right now!” Spy called after them, shaking his head. He stripped the rest of the way, throwing his wrinkled, sweaty suit aside. Fortunately he had a change of clothing in the car, but he wasn’t quite prepared to instruct Pyro on how to open the secret compartment he kept it in. He’d have to, at the very least, put his trousers back on to retrieve fresh clothes. It wouldn’t do to go scandalizing the good citizens of Teufort with a dishevelled Frenchman wearing only a balaclava and some burns!

Hoping Pyro wouldn’t hear the door opening and think he was leaving, Spy hurried out to the car and returned with his simple outfit—just jeans and a t-shirt. Good enough for driving back to base.

Clothing secured, he rapped on the bathroom door. “Room for one more?”

Pyro called out a ‘Yes’ and pulled open the shower curtain. They hadn’t even heard the door opening. They welcomed Spy in, then laughed. “Do you really want to shower with your mask on?”

“I—what?” Spy lifted a hand to his face, looking peeved when he felt his balaclava. “No, I suppose that would be silly, wouldn’t it?” He retreated and closed the shower curtain, thinking quickly. He wanted to shower with Pyro, and really, after everything they’d done the night before, uncovering his face was trivial.

Besides. Pyro had trusted him enough to take off _their_ mask.

He peeled off the sweaty thing with relief, tossing it carelessly on the bathroom floor. He could go without a mask until he got back to his base, too.

Pyro brightened to see his face, reaching out to touch it, winding an arm around him and pulling him under the spray to kiss his face over and over. They grinned as he hissed with pain at the feeling of hot water against his fresh burns.

“ _Putain_! You fiend! You knew this would happen!” Spy laughed, dancing and squirming and gasping as the spray hit him. He dashed in and out of the water, sliding free of Pyro’s arms as he tried to balance his desire to get clean with the suddenly intensified feeling of the burns.

Pyro cruelly held him tighter, keeping him under the water until he adjusted. “It’s fine,” they murmured against his shoulder. “You should clean them anyway.”

“Mm-hmm. And I’m sure you’re only looking out for my fucking health?” Spy quit trying to get away, surrendering himself to Pyro’s strong arms. His chest was heaving, but he had a full erection.

“Mhm!” they chirped, grinning. Their hand slid down to take Spy’s cock and stroke it slowly, from base to tip.

“Well…” Spy gasped. “Fuck. I don’t seem to mind all that much, do I?”

“No, you don’t,” they agreed. They were both wet and slippery and Pyro kept Spy turned to the water so his burns kept stinging. They took their time stroking him, their grip tight. They were glad that they’d woken up early; it gave them a little time to fool around in the shower.

Between the constant assault on his sensitive burns and Pyro’s careful attention, it wasn’t long before Spy was moaning and struggling aimlessly in Pyro’s arms. “I—Oh, fuck, Pyro, _c'est tellement embarrassant_ , I’m normally much—!”

“I don’t care,” they assured him, not letting up. They loved holding him tight as he struggled against their grip.

“Pyro, I’m—!” Spy nearly squirted up and out of Pyro’s arms as he came with a wild cry. He sagged once he was finished, glad Pyro was there to hold him up. Wincing, he shook his head, trying to pull away from the hot water. “ _Non, non, merde, c’est trop maintenant_ ,” he protested. “Ah...it’s too much!”

Pyro didn’t release him, however. They had to admit, they were enjoying hearing him beg. “You can take a little more,” they told him, somewhere between encouraging and sadistic. One of their arms was already around Spy’s chest, and now that they were done stroking him, the other hand grabbed his wrist and forced it back, keeping him under the water.

“No, I can’t,” Spy protested, rather feebly, barely pulling against Pyro’s grip on him. It hurt—a lot, maybe more than getting the burns in the first place—but he liked Pyro telling him to take more. And then _forcing_ him to take more.

After a few seconds where he was overcome by Pyro manhandling him, the pain grew too much to bear again and he began to struggle in earnest. “Please, Pyro, please!” he asked, suspecting that Pyro liked him asking for mercy and resisting, maybe only prolonging this treatment, but he didn’t think he could just stand there stoically and take it, either.

Pyro kept him there for another few moments before finally releasing him. They finished rinsing themself off and followed Spy out. “Clean enough?” they teased.

“What do _you_ think?” Spy asked wryly, shaking his head, but he couldn’t help grinning as he dried off—patting his burns very lightly with the towel.

They grinned back, drying themself off as well. “You got me a bit worked up,” they said, suggestively.

“Did I?” Spy asked, giving them his best impression of innocence.

They gave a whine.

“What do you need, _mon feu_?” he asked, giving in and calling them by a pet name he’d been considering for a while. The word _fire_ was masculine in French, but didn’t refer in any way to Pyro’s gender. “I await your command.” Spy swirled the towel around him like a cape with a perfectly executed half-bow that left his head lowered submissively but his eyes raised on Pyro.

They smiled, nudging him out of the bathroom now that they were both dry. They sat on the edge of the bed, holding out a hand for Spy to follow them, then pressing him down to his knees in front of them.

“Oh, is that how it is?” Spy purred, obediently allowing Pyro to push him down. He lightly placed a hand on each of Pyro’s knees, gently moving them apart but ready to stop if that wasn’t what Pyro wanted.

Pyro was happy to spread their legs apart for Spy, canting their hips forwards to give him better access. They had wanted to play with his hair last night, to weave their fingers into it and grab a fistful of it and tug, and now they could indulge, since Spy’s mask was still on the floor in the bathroom.

Spy considered telling Pyro they could be rough with him, then reasoned that he didn’t have to. He leaned back for a moment, just feeling Pyro pull him closer again by the hair, then settled himself between their thighs. Eyes closed, he gave them a long, slow lick to begin, getting a taste and seeing how they reacted. Even after the shower, their pubic hair still somehow smelled of smoke and matches.

Pyro gave a pleased hum, putting their hand on the back of Spy’s head, letting him take over, but digging in their fingernails every once in awhile.

Giving a soft hiss every time Pyro’s nails sank in especially hard, Spy slid forward a little on his knees so he could concentrate on their clit. He took it in his mouth, suckling and lapping broad strokes with his tongue. He could feel the tense eagerness in the set of Pyro’s legs, but he was determined to take his time and go slowly to make up for his own unseemly haste in the shower.

Still worked up from forcing Spy to push through the pain of his burns under hot water, it wasn’t long before they were trembling. After a few minutes of this, their thighs spasming every time Spy gave a particularly hard suck on their clit, they let themself fall backwards on the bed, crying out, muffling themself with their hand.

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and still managing to look very pleased with himself, Spy raised himself up on his knees so he could see Pyro. “Do you want me to stop, or do something else?” he asked, rather breathlessly.

They had a blissful expression as they sat up, head slightly tilted. “I’m good.” Their voice was breathy. “Very good.”

Part of them was aware that they should be getting ready for battle and not having sex, again, but they couldn’t really want to be doing anything else. They felt amazing and they were so glad their day with Spy yesterday had turned into all of this. They pulled him up onto the bed and snuggled in against him.

Spy couldn’t help a little startled yelp when he found himself suddenly bodily lifted, but he quickly settled against Pyro’s side. “Fuck. Maybe there’s something to this ‘getting up early’ business after all,” he admitted, still panting slightly.

“It isn’t usually this nice,” Pyro laughed. “I’m gonna start slacking off with you around.”

“Good. I like bringing people down to my level.” Spy yawned. “What time is it now?” He buried his face against Pyro’s shoulder so he couldn’t see and wouldn’t have to answer his own question.

“Almost seven,” Pyro groaned. “Let’s get dressed.” Their legs still felt weak and they didn’t particularly want to get dressed. Normally they were far more active in the morning, but now they just wanted to go back to bed with Spy. Still, they sat up and gathered their clothes, dressing slowly.

Spy briefly tried to keep Pyro from moving, but he knew he couldn’t physically stop them. Yawning again, he sat up and made a face. “Wouldn’t you rather stay here with me?” he coaxed, leaning back with both hands behind him and showing off the full length of his body.

“Yes!” they laughed. “Stop tempting me. I want breakfast before battle, and we still have to get back to base. I don’t know about you, but it takes me a half hour to get into my suit.”

It normally took Spy at least half an hour to get ready for battle, but he was resigned to skipping a few steps in his toilette today. “I _am_ temptation,” he agreed, grinning wickedly, “and breakfast is overrated.”

“Spyyyyy,” they whined.

“What?” Spy asked, all innocence.

“ _Stop_ being temptation.”

“Impossible,” Spy scoffed, flopping back on the bed with his arms outstretched. “Still,” he grudgingly admitted, “I suppose you’re probably right. Very well.” With a very put-upon sigh he slid down off the bed and pulled on his t-shirt and jeans. “Ready?” he asked, as though he’d been waiting for Pyro.

Pyro smiled to see Spy in something other than a suit. He looked handsome no matter what he was wearing. They threw on their hoodie and suddenly they were the same masculine Pyro that Spy had first met. Their build and short hair were not particularly feminine. “I’m ready.” They both went out and got settled in the car.

Ever since he’d woken up, Spy had a lingering sense that there was something he needed to ask Pyro, something important. “Pyro, we didn’t use protection last night. There’s no chance of, ah…?” He kept his cowardly eyes fixed on the road, not looking at Pyro.

“Oh! Is that what you were asking? No, it’s safe. I’ve never wanted kids, and I didn’t want to bleed every month, so one of the Medics was very helpful and got rid of all that.” That had never been a danger since they’d started having sex, so it rarely occurred to them that it was usually an issue for other people. “Sorry,” they apologized. “I didn’t even think about it.”

Spy laughed, hoping Pyro wouldn’t be able to tell how relieved he was. _“Pas de problème,”_ he assured them. “Fuck. I know I got a little…swept up last night and it slipped my mind. But I was also sure you knew what you were doing with yourself.” His eyelids fluttered, hands flexing on the wheel. _“Very_ sure.”

Pyro grinned. “Yes. Good. And wow you swear _a lot_.”

 _“Quoi?_ I don’t swear that fucking much!” he protested.

“You literally just said fuck.”

“I—oh. So I did.”

Pyro just laughed. They didn’t want to distract Spy while he was driving, but they put a hand on his thigh anyway—not doing anything, just touching him. They were feeling especially touchy-feely today. “How long are you, hm… How long is your contract with BLU?” Pyro asked, suddenly all too aware that this relationship might have a time limit on it.

Briefly removing one hand from the wheel to rest on top of Pyro’s, Spy considered their question carefully. “My contract is rather…open-ended. My plan was to, I don’t know, recover here until I felt ready for fieldwork again. However…” he sighed. “I feel as though, since arriving here, circumstances have changed. As my little, ah…incident yesterday shows, I’m nowhere near ready to return to the outside world. And,” he turned to smile at Pyro, giving their hand a brief squeeze, “I’ve met someone very intriguing here.”

Pyro’s smile brightened, and they seemed to squirm a little with happiness.

True to his word, Spy sped back to Pyro’s base to drop them off with plenty of time to prepare before battle. “Well,” he said, suddenly at an unaccustomed loss for words. “Here you are.”

They moved closer and put a hand on the side of his face, turning him towards them for a kiss. “I’ll see you in battle.”

Spy waved them off, waiting until they were inside the base before starting the car and returning to his own. He had honestly been worried, when he’d accepted the contract, that he’d get bored of the repetitive nature of his work for TFI—killing the same people over and over, day after day—but he felt suddenly…reinvigorated. He was looking forward to battle in a way he never had before.

 

***

 

Battle was intense that day.

Pyro saw Spy sapping Engineer’s buildings a few times and each time the chase was far more satisfying than usual. They got him more often than not and considered it a victory. It was thrilling, playing this way with Spy, in a way it never had been before.

Spy was highly enjoying himself as well. It was almost like a game of tag, and with barely more consequence. He was disappointed when, after going through respawn for the first time that day, he realized that the burns Pyro had given him would have healed. He rolled up his sleeve to confirm his suspicion, and was pleasantly surprised to see the faint—very faint—mark of a face remained. Of course. It had healed for hours and hours. He hadn’t gone through respawn immediately after. It would leave a faint scar.

He hurried back into battle, pleased by this. If Pyro ever gave him something too large, uncomfortable, or disfiguring, he could always pop through respawn before it had a chance to heal, but otherwise… Otherwise he might be able to accumulate a few scars. He liked that thought, of having a permanent scar from them. Having their mark on him. If they started on a Friday night—to give him the most time to heal before battle Monday—it would ensure a deeper scar.

Provided Pyro wanted to do this again, of course.


	5. Friday October 18th

**Friday October 18th**

Friday during battle, Pyro was eager to play their game again, but even more so, they were excited to see Spy _after_ battle for their other games. But they hadn’t set a time or place, so they were going to have to do it during battle.

At one point they cornered Spy, pushing him down to the ground and standing over him, flamethrower ready. Suddenly it occurred to them that this was the perfect moment. They pulled their mask off, gasping in the cool air, eyes a little wild from the adrenaline rush of battle. “Tonight?”

Spy’s gloved hands scrabbled in the dirt as he tried to reach his knife or gun before he heard the fatal _click_ of the flamethrower and he was sent to respawn again—it helped if he thought of it that way, rather than _dying._ He was rock-hard, and he rather hoped Pyro would finish the job before they noticed—he knew their peripheral vision wasn’t very good, so there was a good chance they wouldn’t—and then they did something completely unexpected and pulled of their mask. He lay there, blinking up at them stupidly, easy fodder for flamethrower or axe or just a simple boot on the throat. They were so beautiful like this, fully in their element. It took him a moment to process their words, and then he nodded. “Yes. Tonight. I’ll meet you here?” He flinched as though he’d hurt his arm during the fall, letting it go limp and half-collapsing while creeping his hand closer to his gun and, again, hoping they wouldn’t notice.

They stepped forwards, pinning his arm under their heavy boot. “Here,” they agreed, before taking up their axe and burying it in his throat. Using the flamethrower at close range without their mask was a bad idea. This was much safer.

“Fuck.” Spy respawned with a grin. “So close!” Still smiling, he lit a cigarette and headed out again to try and even the score—as a side bonus to collecting the intel and strewing general mayhem, of course.

 

***

 

After battle, there were a few things that needed to happen before they went out to the battlefield to meet Spy.

They never showered with the team. The team showered first after battle, since it took Pyro a bit more time to get out of their suit, clean it, and hang it up properly. The rest of the mercenaries mostly just dumped their body armour in their lockers and threw the rest in the laundry. A specialized fire-entry suit was a bit more demanding. After they had finished with their suit, they went to the shower room. It was empty by then, and they had their shower alone, the way they preferred it.

It was rare that a teammate took issue with their gender. If they were unkind, they could be intimidated, and if they weren’t, then they didn’t put up a fuss after the usual initial confusion. Some of them never got their pronouns right, but that bothered them less than those who tried to bully them, assuming that a ‘woman’ wasn’t suited to be a mercenary. Pyro found that once a teammate had gone through respawn a few times at the end of a fire axe, they tended to be quieter around them.

Plus, the team rule was if Pyro sent you through respawn, you had to clean up the mess. Since Pyro did a lot of the cleaning around the base, it was only fair that if they were provoked, they didn’t have to clean it up.

After their shower, they went to dinner. They always made breakfast. Lunch was a fend-for-yourself affair, and dinner was organized by days of the week. Fridays were the Demoman’s turn. It almost worked out perfectly, a seven-day week with nine mercenaries, minus Pyro, since they did breakfast. And no one would eat Medic’s food, so they had stopped asking him to cook. Their Demoman was from Scotland, and his food was usually of the same origin.

Once they’d finished dinner, it was nearly seven. They headed out, lighting a cigarette as they walked out towards the battlefield. Every once in a while they would walk the battlefield at night, when the sun was setting. It could really be quite pretty.

Hearing footsteps approaching, Spy kicked the pile of cigarette butts under his car and greeted Pyro with a little smile and a wave.

Pyro went to lean against him, affectionately. “You didn’t wait too long?”

 _“Pas de tout,"_ Spy assured them, wrapping an arm around their waist and stroking their ribs with his thumb. “I wanted to show you this.” He tried to roll up his sleeve but his glove kept getting in the way, so he simply pulled it off and offered Pyro his forearm. “It’s faint, but it’s still there.”

Pyro took Spy’s arm and stroked their fingertips over his little smile-shaped scar. “You don’t mind it?” If he did, they’d have to be very careful about when and how they burned him.

“My understanding is that if a wound starts to heal at all before respawning, it leaves a scar? The longer it heals, the more it scars, is that correct?” Spy shook his head. “I don’t mind.”

“That’s right,” Pyro agreed. Besides the Engineers, they liked to think they knew more about respawn than most of their teammates. They had certainly been in it long enough, and listened to different Engineers talking about it. Respawn was part of the reason they didn’t have any serious scars.

“So, what was your plan, mm? Do you need me sprawled on the dirt at your feet again?” Spy’s slow smile made it clear this wasn’t out of the question.

Pyro gave him a wicked grin, nudging their boot behind Spy’s shoe and pushing him back, drawing their leg forward so he couldn’t easily recover his balance.

While Spy probably could have stopped himself from being taken down, he didn’t bother to counter Pyro’s move—though he did break his fall a little so he wouldn’t be winded. His smile never faltered—he looked very pleased with himself. _“Oui,_ this seems more familiar,” he agreed. “Though I wouldn’t mind changing the outcome a little.”

“How so?” Pyro stood over him, one foot on either side of his body. They were smiling in a way that said they knew exactly how Spy wanted it to change.

“Well, I don’t mind the fire part, but I think it could stand to be smaller and more controlled…” A box of matches appeared in Spy’s hand. Long, good-quality wooden ones. “And it would be nice to do something more with my erection than lose it going through respawn. If you’re asking for suggestions. Other than that…” His grin spread. “I’m your helpless captive, as you can see.”

They nodded, pleased. They put a boot over Spy’s wrist, grinding down slightly until they heard him hiss and he dropped the matches. Pyro nudged both his arms in close to his body, then sat on his chest, their legs folded on top of Spy’s arms so he couldn’t move them. They took the matches from where Spy had been forced to drop them, lighting one and just enjoying it for a moment—the scratch of the emery against the match head, the smell of it, the brightness and the heat. They let the fire grow across the matchstick, looking down at Spy with a sudden realization that they had planned this poorly, they were both still fully dressed and they didn’t want to burn their clothes.

They grabbed Spy’s mask by the back of his neck and pulled it off, revealing at least enough skin for them to work with. They stubbed out the match on the side of his throat.

Watching the fire burn down without touching him, Spy made little helpless pleading sounds by the time Pyro finally touched the match to his skin. He let out a wild yell, rolling and twisting as he attempted to free an arm to cover his mouth. He gave a few panting breaths, eyes glazed with pleasure, before coming back to himself. “Lovely as this is, are you concerned about anyone hearing us and coming to investigate?”

“I might have to gag you,” they suggested with a grin.

“Oh.” Spy shivered, eyes fluttering. “That would be horrible. Please, anything but that.” He grinned back.

They shuffled back slightly on Spy’s chest. They undid the top buttons of his clothes to reveal as much skin as possible without actually getting off of Spy. They pulled off their belt and folded it in half, pressing it to Spy’s lips with a raised eyebrow.

He opened his mouth to accept the belt, nodding, then shook his head and gave Pyro a questioning glance.

“What?”

“You won’t mind bite marks on it?”

They just smiled. “It’ll be a nice reminder.” They pressed it between his teeth, rolling up their sleeves. They lit another match, letting the little flame trail over their bare wrists before stubbing it out just below Spy’s collarbone.

Again, Spy watched with wide-eyed anticipation as Pyro teased him before giving him what he wanted. He bit down hard on the cloth webbing of the belt—he probably wouldn’t actually be able to leave bite marks in this material, no matter how much pressure he used, but it did muffle him nicely. And having something to bite helped with the pain. His legs, unrestrained, kicked and jerked. He ended up with his knees bent, thighs pressed against Pyro’s back.

Pyro liked feeling him struggle under them; it was more exciting than they’d expected. Their knees dug into his arms hard, they could feel him kick and squirm frantically as the flame came closer to his skin, then arch and jerk as it touched him. They pressed their thumb to the red burn they’d left under his collarbone, stroking it. They bent down over him, lips nearly against his ear, and whispered, “I could do anything I want to you right now, couldn’t I?” They sat up enough to light another match, and this one they ground out behind Spy’s ear, carefully avoiding his hair.

Spy’s whimper was audible even through his impromptu gag, but he nodded eagerly anyway. He struggled again as the next match touched him, delighted that Pyro only held on harder, keeping him completely as they wanted him. He didn’t actually want to get away.

Pyro wrapped a hand around his neck, hesitating just a second to get a nod from Spy that it was alright, then tightened their fingers slowly. They lit a match one handed, bracing the matchbox between their thigh and Spy’s side. They let this one burn, right under the hollow of Spy’s throat, feeling it burn their wrist at the same time. Because they didn’t stub it down hard, it raised a blister instead of lying flat.

The belt could only stifle Spy so much, and this time he _screamed._ The extended burn hurt more than having it quickly stubbed out, and now he was struggling in earnest—not that it made a difference. Pyro outweighed him and was far stronger, so they easily kept him in place. He was breathing so hard he managed to accidentally blow the match out before Pyro was finished with it, his eyes immediately wide and horrified as he looked up at them.

Pyro just laughed, though it wasn’t entirely kind. They lit another match and left it to sit on Spy’s chest, and this time they put a hand over his mouth and nose, holding him so he couldn’t breathe.

Spy’s hips bucked and arched frantically beneath Pyro, neck bowing as much as Pyro’s grip would allow as he came in a series of short, sharp bursts.

Pyro watched as Spy’s face went red as he came, laughing. “You came already?” Twice now he had promised that he usually lasted longer than he had with Pyro. The match had burned down by now and extinguished itself. They took the blackened matchstick off Spy, leaving only little bits of ash and burnt wood behind, along with a long blister and a patch of red skin.

Once Pyro had released his face, Spy tucked it against his shoulder with embarrassment. He was normally better than this! However, he knew full well that Pyro didn’t need his penis to get themself off. It wasn’t much comfort or relief.

They couldn’t stifle a giggle. Now that Spy wasn’t hard, they felt pretty certain that the burns would be too much for him. “You want to stop? I know burns hurt more when you’re not… y’know, enjoying them.”

Spy gamely shook his head. He could at least do this much for Pyro, since he was apparently useless otherwise. And he still had the belt to bite.

Pyro smiled. They were sure he wouldn’t enjoy them the same way, but if he was willing to suffer, they were happy to make him suffer. They lit another match and pressed the fiery head of it right under Spy’s chin, leaving a nice round little burn there.

As Pyro had pointed out, the pain didn’t feel nearly as good now that he’d cum, but Spy just bit down harder, eyes squeezed shut as he breathed through the pain through his nose.

The next match they lit was for themself, and they dragged the flame across their inner elbow, their thighs tightening around Spy’s body, hips rocking.

A little relieved to be given at least a break from burns, Spy wondered if Pyro could climax from this alone, without touching themself at all.

Pyro shuddered as they came down from the pain and pleasure of the burn, their eyes half-lidded, pupils huge. They drew another match over the emery and it lit instantly. They bent down to kiss Spy, pressing the fire into their own neck with the pop of a blister forming and then a sizzle of their skin.

The kiss began unexpectedly sweet, contrasting with the smell of the match, but Pyro soon caught Spy’s lower lip between their teeth and bit down, hard. He felt them shudder at the same time, assuming they’d touched the match to their skin at that moment. He indulged himself in struggling against Pyro, knowing he wouldn’t be allowed to escape.

When they sat up, they swayed slightly, a dazed smile on their face. “Mmm,” they gave a pleased hum, looking down at Spy.

“Mmm,” Spy agreed through his gag, looking back up at them. He spat out the belt. “But I’m afraid my arms are beginning to go numb.”

“Oh.” They slid off his side so they were completely off of him, taking their belt back, but not rethreading it through their belt loops, just holding it. They were still breathing a bit hard, their face a little red. “You good?”

“Very,” Spy agreed, rolling onto his side to face them. “Embarrassed, but good. You?”

“Good.” They lay flat on their back in the dirt, hands crossed under their head. “I’m guessing you want to change, though.”

“...Yes.” Spy shifted closer to put his head on their shoulder—a little tentatively, not sure if they’d allow the contact.

They wrapped one arm around Spy, pulling him in closer. “What do you want to do—besides that?”

“I wouldn’t mind, ah, cuddling for a while,” Spy admitted. “But perhaps not outside in the dirt. I could drive us to Teufort again?”

They nodded, slowly untangling themself from Spy to get up, leaning against the car. Their legs were still a little wobbly from their recent orgasm.

“Are you alright?” Spy laughed, offering them an arm to steady themself—made less effective when he stumbled too. He was pleased that Pyro would want to spend time with him when they weren’t fucking.

“Legs are still a bit weak.” They smiled. They were happy to collapse into their seat in the car. “But very alright.”

“I’m glad.” Spy got in the car and was about to turn the ignition when he frowned. “Mm, actually, could we make a quick stop at my base?” He laughed, looking at himself in the rear view mirror. “I’m not certain I’m prepared to have _all_ of these scars, _mon feu.”_

“Of course.” They nodded. They were happy Spy had his little smiley face scar, but they understood him not wanting any more of them. Their own scars were all superficial. They’d healed any that were too much for them.

“Do you need to do the same?”

“That depends. How long are we staying in Teufort?” If it was overnight (or even two!) they’d want to bring clothes.

“Mm, an intriguing thought,” Spy purred. He shook his head. “You’ve gotten me all muddled, I forgot it was Friday. I suppose we could stay…as long as we like. Well, until Monday, in any case. I was just thinking of lying together naked for a few hours, but…”

“I don’t have any plans.” Pyro slid their hand over Spy’s thigh, squeezing gently. “But if it’s gonna be longer than today, I’ll want a few things.”

Spy shivered pleasantly, taking a hand off the steering wheel to stroke Pyro’s hand. “Do you want me to wait here for you, or, ah, take care of my business first and then come back?”

“You do what you need, I’ll meet you back here.” Pyro leaned over for a quick kiss before getting back out of the car. They waved as they headed back to their base. The walk wasn’t long, only ten minutes or so, but by the time they got back it was dark, only a little light on the horizon from the setting sun. They had a few clothes and other essentials with them in a bag, plus they were wearing their respirator.

***

Tempting as it was to off himself here and respawn at his base without having to drive there _and_ back, Spy knew he wouldn’t have his car if he did that. He drove back, whistling to himself, with his left arm hanging out the window. He parked beside the garage, shot himself, and packed an overnight bag before driving back to meet Pyro. Luckily both teams were completely used to hearing random gunfire and explosions at all hours of the day and night.

Pyro hopped back into the car with Spy, tossing their bag in the back and taking off their respirator so they could speak clearly.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long.” Spy turned the car adroitly and headed up the road to Teufort. He was amused to see that Pyro’s bag was a canvas duffel, most of it painted in bright colours, the rest covered in more patches seemingly without rhyme or reason. His own was a simple black suitcase, currently in the trunk.

“No,” they assured him. The drive seemed fast this time; it was getting more familiar. They found themself a little lost for words, not sure what to say to Spy suddenly.

“Are you alright?” Spy asked, able to see Pyro’s mounting tension even while he was focused on the road. He reached over and gently rested a hand on their thigh, ready to pull back if they stiffened further.

“I’m fine,” they said, relaxing a little under his hand, twining their fingers together. They’d had partners over the years, but they weren’t sure they’d describe any of their other relationships as ‘dating.’ It was different now, with the way things were headed—or already were—with this Spy. Still, they were far more confident with the sex part than the talking part.

“Nothing’s troubling you?” Spy laughed playfully. “Not having second thoughts about spending the weekend with a dashing rogue like me?” He was relieved to feel them relax and gave their hand a little squeeze.

“No,” they assured him. “I guess I just don’t know what to say.”

“Well… Is there anything you’d like to know about me? Or anything you’d like me to know about you?”

Suddenly the pressure on them to choose a subject to talk about was tremendous. As much as they tended to get to know about their teammates, it was always through listening and rarely through actual conversation. This was not one of their strong suits. And Spy was volunteering to tell them about himself! Spy! A man who lived and breathed secrets was offering to answer their questions! And they couldn’t think of any. Finally, something seemed to snap into place and they asked a simple and hopefully not too personal question. Their hesitation was likely too long, but Spy didn’t seem to be staring at them or anything. “What do you do with your time on base, when we’re not working?”

Watching the frustration on Pyro’s face, Spy had just opened his mouth to say something when Pyro spoke. He smiled at them. “Well, I like to read a great deal. I’ve mostly been forcing myself to read in English since arriving here—I’m not quite where I’d like to be with it yet. Granted, most of the conversations I tend to have are both simple and repetitive, but…well, I would hate to miss out on anything _important_.” He gave Pyro’s hand another little squeeze.

“Aside from that… I cheat at cards, I drink and smoke, and observe my teammates while cloaked.” He neglected to mention that most of this observation happened while members of his team were watching television and he positioned himself where he could also watch. “And I generally just sneak about. So, probably about what you’d expect.

“Also, lately I’ve been plagued by fantasies of one of my enemies,” he added, thoughtfully. “I wonder what that could be about?”

They laughed. “I’ve been having the same problem, recently. But it makes work more fun. And the weekend, especially.”

It had made their nights more fun too. Though they often masturbated, it usually didn’t involve much of a fantasy, beyond fire. Their nights often ended with a trip to the team dispenser. But the last week, their fantasies had been very different, and very fixated on Spy. Fire had still been involved, of course, but in a secondary way.

“Have you?” Spy asked, genuinely surprised. “About…about me, or burning your enemies in a more general way?”

“I usually fantasize about burning people. Or me. But I like thinking about you especially,” they admitted. “Before we started, even.” Spies were the most fun to chase and burn in battle, and this Spy was especially handsome—though of course it had been hard to tell before they’d gotten involved. The Spy uniform covered almost as much skin as their own. But he had a lovely shape, anyway and what they had seen of him was very attractive.

“Really?” Spy was very pleased by this, and glad to discover his strange attraction had apparently been mutual.

“Does that surprise you?” Pyro smiled. “You’re very handsome.”

“I am very handsome,” Spy agreed, smiling back. “But it’s still nice to hear. You wanted to burn me most of all because I’m handsome?”

“And spies are fun to hunt down,” they informed him. “But yeah.”

Spy shook his head. “Yes, I’m sure we are. Only the best prey—and lovers—for you, hmm?” he teased.

They grinned. “That’s right.” Though, before this Spy, they had only been with one other Spy—a RED one—of course. All of their previous lovers had been on their own team, and most of them had been Scouts, since they’d been young when they’d started working for RED and Scouts tended to be the youngest members of the team. It was easier with someone their age.

“What do you do when _you’re_ not fighting? I could hazard a few guesses, if you’d like. Prove I’m enough of a Spy to keep your interest, and all that.”

“Oh, guess! I’m curious to see what you’ve found out. Or what you think.”

“Sewing, painting, and colouring? Not very insightful, I’m afraid.”

They looked back at their bag. “Oh, that gave it away, didn’t it?” they remarked.

“That, and a few other things,” Spy admitted.

“Those things, and cooking and baking. And I try to keep the base clean. And I knit. I pick up hobbies that new teammates bring with them; it keeps me busy.”

“That’s a good idea. Unfortunately, I don’t really have any I can add to your list, unless you count drinking or smoking as hobbies. What sorts of things do you knit?” Spy had been a little nervous that the weekend might get awkward between rounds of sex when Pyro had immediately clammed up at the beginning of the drive, and he was relieved by how easily they carried on a conversation together now that Pyro had loosened up.

“Warm clothes for Coldfront, mostly. Every year there’s a teammate who doesn’t understand that they need hats and mittens, and they make good Smissmas presents.” For some reason, every year they were transferred to Coldfront in January, the coldest month of the year. It was like they were trying to kill off the team members who were from warm climates.

“I would look absurd wearing my uniform with a hat and mittens!” Spy protested. Though he did like the thought of wearing something Pyro had knitted him. If they decided to, of course. He regretted his words, speaking as though Pyro _had_ to make him something.

“You can wear a scarf, then,” they chuckled. “I’ll even make it blue. But you might want warmer gloves and a hat; Coldfront is _awful._ ”

“Scarves are handsome enough,” Spy agreed. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind if it was red. Or you could go midway and make it—oh _mon dieu_ I just realized why the Administrator and Miss Pauling wear purple.”

Pyro laughed. “Yes, that’s why. All the Administrator’s people have been purple.”

They’d made it to Teufort. Pyro perked up a little. Though there wasn’t much in the little town, it would be nice to have a bed together, and maybe go to the diner later.

Spy parked in front of the room they’d shared before, passing Pyro the key again. “I’ll go let them know we’re here, and then the weekend is ours.” He gave Pyro a little, almost shy, smile. He didn’t have much experience with dating, but so far he was enjoying it. Even if he did suspect their relationship was a little…unconventional. It was too bad they’d have to be careful with how much they burned him. Getting back here after respawning would be irritating, and while he rather liked the thought of having Pyro mark him permanently _eventually_ , he didn’t want—and couldn’t afford—to scar every time they had sex.

Pyro let themself in, putting their bag by the bed and untying their boots. They stripped down, looking forward to a little skin-to-skin snuggling. They crossed their legs under themself to wait for Spy.

Spy returned, knocking on the door in a specific pattern to let Pyro know it was him. He quickly and efficiently undressed himself as well and laid his clothes—including his mask—on the back of the room’s only chair. There were times to undress slowly and provocatively, of course, but he didn’t think this was one of them, especially because Pyro was already nude. “I think we need to come up with some way of arranging meetings that doesn’t leave both of us quite so…vulnerable.”

“It would have been smarter to arrange something before we said goodbye,” Pyro agreed, welcoming the naked Spy into bed as soon as he was ready. “But why a secret knock?”

“Probably. But I think we can be excused, seeing as it was our first time.” Spy caught one of Pyro’s rough, surprisingly broad hands in one of his own and kissed their knuckles. “But next time we’ll have no excuse!” He cuddled against them, kissing their freckled shoulder, then shrugged. “I’m a Spy. We like secret knocks.”

“Oh,” they laughed. “I suppose we can make a secret knock if it would make you happy.” They wrapped the sheet around both of them, pressing in against Spy warmly. It was so nice to just lie there with someone, holding each other. They hadn’t been able to do that in quite awhile, and they were pretty sure Spy hadn’t had anyone since he’d started working at BLU either, so at least a few months for him. They could ask, but maybe that would be an uncomfortable conversation. “You said you’d been offered this job before and turned it down,” Pyro said, recalling Spy’s words. “Why?”

“Why was I offered it, or why did I turn it down?” Spy asked lightly enough, but his face was suddenly tense. Fuck, he was just as bad as Pyro—a couple of months hiding behind a mask and already he was losing his careful control over his expression.

Pyro caught the tension and gave him a smile. “You don’t have to answer if I overstep.”

Spy shook his head, offering a faint smile in return. “No, I’m sorry. I…” He sighed. “I _want_ you to be able to ask things about me, want to tell you things. It’s just hard sometimes.” He nestled even closer to Pyro, tucking one of their arms around him. “I was offered the job because I’m good at being a spy, obviously,” he teased. “And I turned it down because…well, I wanted to be involved in the real world, not playing a bizarre game.” He gave Pyro’s collarbone an apologetic kiss. “Not that there’s anything wrong with this place, with what you— _we_ —do, but that’s what I thought. Then I…” his voice broke. “I was captured last year—I won’t bore you with the details!” he said, brightly. “But I haven’t been myself since. When Miss Pauling offered me the job again, I decided it would be the perfect place to…recuperate. As I said, I’d only meant for it to be temporary, but… And the rest, you know.”

“It’s alright,” Pyro assured him. “I know it’s a strange place, it’s not much like real life.” They assumed, anyways. “And it still doesn’t have to be forever. It’s only been a few months, that’s not a long time to heal.” Not that they wanted Spy to move on, but they did want him to feel better. They were pretty sure whatever had happened to him during his capture had involved electrocution, and they were sure that would take time to heal from, mentally.

“I…I suppose I hadn’t thought of it that way. I imagine you’ve seen a lot of us come and go, haven’t you?” Spy wasn’t sure when Pyro had started working for TFI, but it seemed like it had been a long time ago.

“I have seen a lot of mercenaries over the years,” they agreed. “And no, there aren’t a lot of safe jobs you can take as a mercenary.” They smiled a little at the thought. “You’re not the only mercenary who started working here to escape, or to heal.” They’d heard a lot of different stories from old teammates, heard screams in the night, seen those who couldn’t sleep at all wandering the halls late at night or even early in the morning. Their work brought a lot of trauma, and most of them hated to show it, or share it.

“Thank you. That does help. It does seem like a strange place to heal, but I suppose for men—ah, _people—_ like us, there aren’t many alternatives.” He kissed their shoulder again, closing his eyes peacefully. “But you didn’t though come here for those reasons, did you?”

“No, I’ve… I’ve always been here,” they laughed. “There isn’t a lot of work for an arsonist outside of TFI, and I never really wanted to leave,” Pyro admitted. Maybe it was another cowardly side of them, but the real world was intimidating for someone who had so rarely visited it. Coming to Teufort was one of the few places they came that they would consider ‘outside.’

“No, I suppose there wouldn’t be,” Spy agreed thoughtfully. “How long _have_ you worked here, if you don’t mind my asking?” Pyro certainly came across as rather naïve and sheltered, but surely they had _some_ experience with the world at large. After all, TFI wouldn’t hire someone with no qualifications. They had to have made their name as an arsonist before coming to work here—didn’t they?

“Since I was sixteen.”

“Since you we— _sixteen?!”_ Spy asked, aghast. _“Putain! C’est impossible!”_

“Language!” they laughed a little.

Spy blinked. “Fuck, again?” He grimaced. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to less… Does it bother you?” A thought occurred to him, and he cocked his head to the side. _“Parles-tu beaucoup de francais?”_

“Not so much anymore. And no, it’s mostly just funny that you don’t seem to notice doing it.”

“I really, really don’t. Sorry. It’s…” He gesticulated. “...cultural, I think.”

Pyro nodded--though the RED Spy was also French, and rarely swore. Maybe it was a particular region of France. They didn’t know. “Anyways, I—” They sighed. “Next time I see you, I’ll bring you some photos, that’ll be easier than just explaining how long I’ve been working here and why.”

Spy blinked. “Yes, I’d like that.” He still felt physically stunned, as though Pyro had hit him over the head with the shaft of their fire axe. “Sixteen,” he repeated to himself incredulously. It made him think rather worse of his employers, that they would allow someone so young to do this sort of work. “You really have been here your whole life, haven’t you?”

They smiled a little wryly. “Yeah, I’ve definitely been here the longest of anyone on the RED or BLU teams.

“You’re very good at your job, of course, but you were _so fucking young_ when you began!” Spy continued, still trying to understand.

“I—” they started again, then laughed. “I was very young, but I grew up with team Vanguard BLU, though they call themselves Team Classic now. So I knew the job, and I knew how to handle a flamethrower. And I didn’t know what else I _could_ do,” they said, honestly.

Spy spluttered a little, trying to think of something to say, but he finally sighed softly and forced himself to relax. “You’re happy?” he asked, simply.

They nodded, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “This is my home.”

“Then it doesn’t matter what I think.” They were probably unsuited to living any other kind of life at this point, but the Gravel War showed no sign of ending any time soon. They would most likely have work as long as they wanted it. “I’m glad you’re here, and I’m here, and that we’re here…together.” He gave a soft, exasperated huff. “ _Merde_. You know what I mean. I hope.”

They nodded again, smiling. They were happily nestled in with Spy and, after talking quietly for a while longer, they found themself drifting off.

Spy lay quietly in Pyro’s arms as he felt them fall asleep, thinking about what they’d said. He still believed they should have been allowed to have a childhood, been able to find their own place in the world, but they’d said they were happy, so that would have to be enough for him. His eyes slowly closed, lulled by the steady rise and fall of Pyro’s chest and their soft breathing as they slept, and then he was asleep, too.

  



	6. Saturday October 19th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more getting to know each other, and some shared secrets

**Saturday October 19th**

Pyro woke first, revelling in watching Spy sleep for a while, staying still and quiet with him, matching his slow breaths. They loved seeing him without his mask. He was handsome. Not only that, but he was sweet and attentive and fond of fire. 

Very gently, they brushed a stray lock of silvery-black hair away from his forehead. His hair had a natural wave to it, and it was just long enough to start curling.

Spy’s faded-blue eyes opened, one at a time, and he smiled up at Pyro. He yawned, stretching both legs out until the bones in his feet cracked and he gave a blissful groan. “Morning.”

“Morning.” They kissed his cheek. 

Spy had slept much better this time, and for the first time in a long time he actually felt refreshed by sleeping. His stomach growled and he smiled—he was rarely hungry, either. He usually forced himself to eat at intervals when he  _ should  _ be hungry. 

“Breakfast?” they murmured. The diner actually had a good breakfast selection. Though part of them was tempted to just stay in bed with Spy.

“Eventually,” Spy agreed, torn between wanting to eat while he actually had an appetite and continuing to snuggle with Pyro. 

Pyro could feel Spy’s erection pressed hard against their thigh and they rubbed against it, curiously. “Is this part of why you want to wait?” They grinned.

“Maybe,” Spy agreed, rutting against Pyro a little and grinning back at them. 

“Mmm,” they hummed, wrapping a leg around him and drawing them close together, letting Spy’s cock slide up against their clit.

“Yes, this is definitely more urgent than fucking breakfast.” Spy’s voice had gotten a little higher and much breathier. He was quite content to let Pyro set the pace and decide what they did together. 

“Oh, good,” they chuckled, pushing him over onto his back. They gave him a few strokes, then bent their head to take his cock in their mouth. He could hear the slick sounds of them working themself open at the same time, varying between stroking their fingers over their clit and pressing a couple fingers into themself.

Spy’s legs twitched and jerked and he cried out in delighted surprise. He propped himself up on his elbows so he could look down at Pyro. “Fuck. Can I do anything for you,  _ mon feu?”  _ he asked breathlessly. 

They took a few long moments before pulling back to answer him, already breathing a little hard. “I’m gonna ride you.” They slid up next to him, throwing a leg over his other side and settling back against his erection, letting him slide against them a few times.

“Alright.” Spy felt a little dazed by the abrupt transition, but he was happy to finish either way—though this time he was  _ determined  _ to finish after them. He didn’t think they had a lighter or matches, which seemed to be what was making him lose control so quickly. Maybe this time he’d actually have a chance. 

They helped line him up so he could press into them and they slowly relaxed onto him, letting him settle in them, completely sheathed. Their thighs trembled a little around him and they bit into their lip. Being on top always seemed to hit some deeper part of themself, something overwhelmingly pleasurable.

“Fuck, you feel so good!” Spy gasped, his accent thicker than normal. He liked being able to see Pyro’s face and hear them during sex, so this position suited him better anyway. He also didn’t mind Pyro’s weight pinning him firmly in place. 

“You too.” Their voice was soft and breathy. Their muscular thighs lifted them up and let them sink back down. They were entirely in charge of their rhythm and speed, even with Spy rolling his hips under them. They liked being the one in control. Spy felt so good in them, filling them completely, hitting that spot so deep in them. They were crying out with each thrust, their hands braced on Spy’s chest.

Spy couldn’t quite catch a full breath—not that he minded. He continued to rock and move as much as he could in this position, relieved that he wasn’t close to cumming this time. 

“Fuck, fuck.” They were trembling, their rhythm starting to break down into something wilder and less controlled. Their hand slid between their thighs and they began to stroke their clit. It was clear from the way they moved and the sounds they made that they were much closer than Spy to their orgasm.

_ This  _ was much better—Spy had been starting to wonder if he’d somehow lost all his sexual prowess, maybe as an unintended side effect of respawn or something. It wouldn’t take much to tip him over the edge, but this time he was certain he could last until Pyro finished. “Handsome,” he murmured, smiling up at Pyro. “Or do you prefer beautiful? Or neither.” He loved watching them approach their peak, knowing he was helping them get there.

That was far too many words and Pyro’s ability to form words, let alone sentences, was dulled. They merely whined, tightening around Spy’s cock as they reached their orgasm, bowing over his body, their fingernails digging into his skin.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck…!” Spy gasped. They were so tight around him and the sweet sting of their nails almost drove him over the edge, but he forced himself to hold on, to last, digging his own nails into his palms and biting his lip. Speaking helped, but he didn’t think he could form words and he was certain Pyro couldn’t respond. 

Pyro gave a few soft cries as they came down, thighs squeezing tight around Spy’s body. All their nerves were lit up and every bit of their skin felt sensitive.

“I—” Spy managed, before Pyro’s tight, wet heat and the crushing strength he could feel in their thighs finished him off. His head flew back, arms blindly reaching up to latch onto any part of Pyro he could reach.  

Pyro arched backwards, wavering for a moment, glad that Spy was holding them so they wouldn’t keel over completely. They leaned forwards over Spy’s body to let his cock slide out of them, then flopped over next to him, one leg and one arm draped over his body. “Mmm,” they purred. They took a few deep breaths, flushed and happy. 

“Mmm,” Spy agreed, happily nestling back against them. “Feeling a little possessive?” he teased. 

“Mhm.” A thought occurred to them and they stroked their fingers over his chest. “Can I be possessive? I mean, are you having sex with anyone else?”

“Not at the present time. Not since I began my employment here.”

“Oh. Good. I mean, I don’t have to be possessive if that changes, but… I think I’d rather have you to myself.” Especially if Spy got into another rough relationship. They liked him having marks from them, bruises and hickeys and scars, but they weren’t sure they wanted to see marks on him from someone else.

“I don’t mind you being possessive,” Spy assured them. “Maybe I like it,” he added, whispering secretively. “Are you?” he asked, after a moment. 

“With anyone else? No, not for about six months now.” That had been when they changed over the Soldier. The previous Soldier had been charming and fun, they’d been sad to say goodbye to him. This new one was just a lunatic, and they had no sexual interest in any of their other teammates at the moment. 

“I am all yours.” Spy wrapped his hand around Pyro’s larger one and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

They smiled, kissing his neck and ear. 

“Breakfast?” Spy suggested, yawning. “Or would you rather go back to sleep for a while?” He suspected he knew what the answer would be, but a man could dream. 

“I don’t know how you can sleep so much,” Pyro laughed, getting up and heading for the shower. They had a rigid schedule, usually even through the weekends and even furlough. It kept them busy and being busy kept them happy. They didn’t mind their schedule being thrown off with Spy, since he was keeping them busy in a different—and far more fun—way.

“I don’t know how you can sleep so fucking little!” Spy countered playfully. He stood and followed Pyro when he heard the shower. “Mind if I join you? Or am I simply too distracting?”

“Even if you are distracting, at least we’ll be clean afterwards.” Pyro grinned, drawing him into the shower with them. It was tight quarters, but it was nice to feel slippery skin against theirs.

“True.” Spy had always enjoyed sharing intimate—but not necessarily sexual—moments like this one, but he didn’t always get the opportunity with his lovers. He enjoyed soaping Pyro’s back and shoulders, kissing the back of their neck and licking up a little water that tasted of them, once the soap was rinsed away. “Which do you prefer?” he asked, recalling his earlier, interrupted question. “Handsome, or beautiful, or neither?”

“I like them both,” they said, giggling when he kissed and licked at them. “You’re definitely handsome, though.” Though Spy was almost delicate, he was also very masculine.

“I’m happy with either, as well. But I agree, I am very handsome.” Spy preened, rewarding Pyro with more kisses. 

Their shower was a little longer than was strictly necessary, but far more enjoyable than showering alone. They both dried and dressed themselves, heading out to the diner once they were ready. 

The waitresses knew the different mercenaries by now. Really, any stranger, especially an oddly dressed one, was likely to be from the bases. Pyro they knew well, since they were here four months out of every year, for nearly two decades now. They gave the girls a friendly wave and sat Spy and themself down at a little table. One of the waitresses came over and took their order.

“Come here often?” Spy teased after the waitress had left. “I don’t need to be jealous, do I?” He stiffened a little as another thought occurred to him. “I don’t have to worry about this getting back to…anyone…do I?”

“You know you don’t have to be jealous.” 

“I know.” Spy blew Pyro a kiss.

They shook their head. “And no, the general rule around town is they don’t talk about what other mercenaries do here unless there’s an actual problem that needs to be fixed. Like how RED’s Medic isn’t allowed here without someone with him. He creeped everyone out.”

“That’s a helpful rule—and I imagine these good people have seen it enforced a time or two, mm?” Towns surrounded by secrets tended to be good at keeping them—or they tended to disappear from the map. He raised an eyebrow. He knew the RED Medic was…unsettling, and that Pyro would rather come and see Spy’s Medic than his own, but… “What did he do?”

“He’s just… a little unnerving. He’s told me about how he once stole a skeleton from someone and the man survived, somehow. I’m sure it was similar when he was here. He just talks a bit too much about things people don’t want to hear. He’s a little tamer with the Heavy.”

“Ah. Yes, I can see why they would want him to be…supervised.” Spy snorted. “I think that depends on your definition of ‘tame.’”

“Quieter,” they suggested. “More focused on him and less focused on other people. We’ve had our Medic for four months and him and the Heavy are already very close.”

“I might have noticed,” Spy said, dryly. “Thank goodness you— _ we— _ didn’t have to put up with him without your Heavy!”

Pyro nodded. “I like my Heavy, he’s very nice.”

The waitress came back around, bringing Spy his coffee and Pyro their chocolate milk.

“I wouldn’t know,” Spy laughed. He took a long, deep drink of coffee, looking pleasantly surprised as it rolled across his tongue. “I was expecting this to be terrible, but it’s actually not bad. How’s your, ah, chocolate milk?” It was a silly thing to drink, but it suited Pyro. He had no idea how they were so awake this early in the morning, especially without coffee. “Do you always order the same meals, too?”

“I used to order new things.” They flushed a little. “Now I just order my favourite.” They felt young and silly next to Spy suddenly. He’d travelled the world, seen and done so many things, and they’d just been… here. Doing the same things every day, every week, every month, every year and drinking chocolate milk and being content with that. Shouldn’t they want more? Shouldn’t they want to  _ be  _ more?

“Nothing wrong with knowing your tastes,” Spy assured them, tentatively setting an outstretched hand on the table. He wasn’t sure how comfortable Pyro was with public displays of affection—or how the public would react to a display of affection between a man and…Pyro. “What’s good?”

Pyro’s smile was as tentative as Spy’s hand, which they took. They had no idea what most of the people of Teufort thought of their gender, but the waitresses had picked up their pronouns at some point. They weren’t sure what they thought about it, but at least they were kind enough to use them. They talked about their favourite things on the menu, and the two of them spoke quietly until they got their food. 

“I think the toast alone could have filled me up,” Spy grumbled, staring at all the food still on his plate. “I don’t suppose you’re still hungry?” He never had much of an appetite, but he hadn’t been able to resist ordering steak, eggs, and hashbrowns. The steak was surprisingly good as well. He had to wonder if some mercenary, at some point, had started providing the diner with higher-quality ingredients than the place could reasonably expect to have. 

Pyro shook their head. Pancakes had been enough for them. 

Once they were both done, they wandered the town, wasting time as they digested. They spent the remainder of the day in the motel room, lying naked together. They split their time almost evenly between fucking and talking. Pyro continually prompted Spy for more stories about his travels and his work, endlessly curious about him.

Again, Spy had been concerned that they wouldn’t have anything to talk about, but Pyro proved to be a keen listener, asking clever and insightful questions. Spy was surprised how easily he opened up for them—how easy it was to open up  _ to  _ them. 

“You could leave though, if you wanted, couldn’t you?” Spy finally asked, head pillowed on Pyro’s soft stomach as they basked in their afterglow. 

“Hm?” They tilted their head slightly, stroking Spy’s soft hair. The question hadn’t had much of a lead-up. “Leave work?”

“Not permanently, of course. I just meant, well, to travel. On vacation. They don’t  _ keep  _ you here, do they?”

“I get furlough, same as anyone.” They didn’t really go anywhere, but that was more of a personal choice than anything. “Two weeks every four months, before moving bases.”

“But you don’t leave?” Spy guessed. 

They shrugged, again feeling that same small feeling, of being young and naïve compared to Spy. “I guess I don’t really have anywhere to go. And honestly, I think wherever I went, I would get lost.” That was just their sort of luck.

“You wouldn’t get lost if you were…with someone who knew where they were going,” Spy suggested, half-playful, half-cautious. “Is there anywhere you’ve ever dreamed of going?”

Pyro gave Spy a slow smile. “Are you asking me to go with you on furlough, Spy?”

“Mm, maybe?” Fuck. It was too soon, he shouldn’t have suggested such a thing. 

They grinned. “I wouldn’t know where to go, but I’m sure you’d have some ideas?”

Spy rolled just enough to kiss Pyro’s ribs, curling even closer against them. “Oh, of course.” He grinned back at them. “Though I would have to take you to France first, of course,” he said, mock-serious. 

“I have heard a lot about it,” they offered. The Soldier they’d grown up with had been French, and incredibly patriotic. “But I haven’t used my French in ages, except for listening to you. My—the RED Spy doesn’t really talk to me.” They’d lived together for two years and still barely said a word to each other.

“Of course he doesn’t. He’s a pompous ass. Anything he’d have to say, dear Pyro, wouldn’t be worth listening to.” Spy shook his head, making a soft tutting sound. “It would be nice to have someone to speak French with, even a little. Someone besides that _fils de poutain.”_ Not that the two of them spoke French with each other, except to bark the occasional insult. 

“Language!” they laughed. “But you’re right, he’s definitely not my favourite teammate.” RED Spy had an odd quirk of never using their pronouns, and instead dancing around the need for pronouns. He referred to them as ‘Pyro’ rather than any pronoun at all. He often spoke in front of them as though they weren’t there, or couldn’t hear. Which meant they knew a fair bit about him and what he got up to. 

“Oh, my apologies. Son of a bitch?” Spy teased—though sometimes he did feel a little strange swearing in front of Pyro. It wasn’t that he thought of them as younger than they were, or innocent, he just...found himself wanting to protect them. Even from himself. 

They just laughed, letting their fingers wander down Spy’s arm to where the little smiling-face scar was, digging their nails in just slightly. “Oh, I have some top-secret news, by the way. Which, as far as I know, no one else knows.” They grinned, knowing that this sort of thing was catnip for spies. They had gotten a call from Miss Pauling last week to let them know about the exciting news. The two of them were pretty close, being similar in age and having been employed together for a long time. 

Predictably intrigued by the offer of information—information no one else knew, apparently—Spy rolled off of Pyro and onto his front, propping himself up on his elbows with his chin resting in his hands so he could see them. “Go on,” he prompted, not bothering to hide his eagerness. 

“We’re getting a new Engineer this week. And it’s someone I know—Dell Conagher.” They assumed Spy would know who Dell was; the Conagher family was pretty famous amongst mercenaries, especially spies.

Spy froze, but it wasn’t long until a helpless giggle bubbled up out of him. “Dell—Dell Conagher? Is going to be an Engineer. On your team?” he asked, between fits of laughter.

Pyro couldn’t help but laugh with him. “I don’t think I get why that’s funny.”

“N-no, you wouldn’t,  _ cher _ !” Spy’s eyes were tearing up with laughter, and it took him a moment to calm down enough to speak again. He cleared his throat, pointedly not looking up at Pyro because he knew it would set him off again. “It just so happens that your secret matches a secret of mine.”

“Oh, do I get to hear a secret now?”

“You most certainly do, because if I have to keep this to myself a moment longer, I’ll explode. Your Spy’s greatest sexual fantasy—actually, I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to call it a sexual  _ obsession— _ is to be ‘captured’ and ‘tortured’ by Dell Conagher.” He made air-quotes. “And don’t ask how I know, because it’s distasteful and an embarrassment to spies everywhere.”

“Oh nooo.” Pyro couldn’t stifle their laughter. “Oh no, oh he’s going to be a mess. And I have no idea how Dell will take that, if he finds out.”

“I expect it to be very amusing. For us, as observers, of course. For your Spy I’m sure it will be agony.” Spy rolled onto his back, grinning up at Pyro. “Are you going to tell him?” he asked eagerly. 

“Tell my Spy? No! But Dell… I might tell him.” They grinned. “Depending on how things go.”

“Oh, no, of course do not tell that—your Spy. He doesn’t know who the new Engineer is yet?”

“I don’t think so. Miss P called me about it; I doubt she’s announced it. Unless he found out some sneaky way.” They shrugged. They were a little nervous about seeing Dell again. They hoped they would still be friends, after so much time apart. They hadn’t seen Dell since they were both teenagers.

“Then I will delight in the knowledge that I know something he doesn’t, and hope to be there when he finds out who his new teammate is.” Spy shook his head, still grinning. “He is going to…I believe the phrase is ‘shit a brick’?”

Pyro giggled. 

“How do you think your Mr. Conagher will react to this news? If you tell him, that is. Which you  _ absolutely  _ should, but only after telling me where and when so I can be there.”

“I don’t know,” they admitted. “We haven’t seen each other for a long time.” Certainly before either of them had had sexual partners. They weren’t sure if Dell even liked men or women; they hadn’t ever talked about it. 

“Well, thank you for sharing this wonderful, wonderful secret.” Spy started laughing again. “And do keep me informed. I’ll keep anything I learn to myself, of course.” There wasn’t really anyone he  _ could  _ tell, aside from the other Spy, and he wanted his rival to be tormented by this for as long as possible. 

Pyro drew Spy into a kiss, smiling.

 

*

 

They spent that night together too, after venturing out for another meal. They ended up passing out a little early, after a particularly vigorous fuck, and after Spy practiced Icelandic with a little tape player that he repeated words and phrases from. 

Pyro revelled in sleeping wrapped up in someone’s arms, still dozing by the time Spy was fully asleep.

_ Even if there was someone nearby who would help him, Thierry couldn’t scream, couldn’t  _ breathe.  _ He was going to die here, in this shitty, damp basement, because even if his captors hadn’t meant to kill him, he couldn’t get enough air. His lungs felt full of lead, his throat clamped tight. Oh fuck, this was it. He was dying. The world began to get dim around the edges, the darkness quickly spreading, giving the room a gentle glow. Everything went quiet, and the pain from his many electrical burns faded. It wasn’t so bad. Even his captors, the filthy room, didn’t look so bad in this death-glow. His lungs continued feebly trying to fill, but his mind had already given up and started to drift loose of his body. _

Spy sat up, gasping, wheezing, and coughing as he desperately tried to take a breath. He couldn’t, and he clawed at his throat and chest in a blind panic. 

Pyro, who had just barely fallen asleep, sat up next to him. Spy was struggling to breathe, there were tears running down his face and he didn’t seem to see them at all. They put a hand on his back, not sure how he’d react. Spy flinched away from the touch with a sharp cry, almost a scream, but one without any air behind it.

They let go. They were most worried about him not breathing. They hopped out of bed and grabbed their bag, digging out their respirator before getting back in bed and putting it over Spy’s face. They had to fight to grab his hands so he wouldn’t just tear the respirator back off. Hopefully it would help.

He thrashed when he felt something slip over his head and cover his face, but the arms holding him were too strong to be bested. He went limp, utterly spent from fear and lack of air. He reflexively tried to fill his lungs again, and managed to suck in a deep, heaving breath. Then another, this one a little less desperate. He could  _ breathe. _

Pyro kept holding him until he seemed to be breathing almost normally again. His breaths were still coming too fast, but they were deep enough that he was getting real air and he wasn’t wheezing anymore. They carefully let him go. “Sorry, I know that probably wasn’t the best way to do that.” Though they’d seen a lot of PTSD through their years working with RED, they’d never had to take care of someone during an episode. All they could think to do was help him breathe.

It took Spy longer than he wanted to admit to calm down enough to realize whose arms were holding him and why, and longer still to relax to the point he didn’t  _ need  _ to be held to keep him from bolting or pulling off… “Your respirator,” he realized, the words coming out thick and muffled. He let out a small, nervous laugh. He sounded like Pyro. 

They nodded, letting go of Spy’s head and pulling the respirator away. Their own breathing was a little shaky. “Are you ok?” That was a dumb question, how would he be ok? They doubted it was something as simple as a bad dream.

With his mouth uncovered, Spy took a cautious breath. His throat was still raspy and his chest was tight, but he could breathe on his own.  _ “Oui.  _ Yes. I-I think so. I’m so sorry…you had to see me like this.” He was ashamed, but couldn’t bring himself to move away from Pyro. 

Pyro wrapped their arms around him, sitting up against the headboard and pulling him into their lap, so his head was resting against their chest. They shook their head. “It’s ok. I know you’ve been through a lot.” His electrical burns, the way he’d reacted to hearing about their treatment, and some of the things he’d said, it was clear he’d been tortured in the past. That kind of trauma wouldn’t just go away. “Let me know if you need the respirator again.” They could hear the rasp in his voice.

“I will. Thank you.” Spy shook his head. “I didn’t realize you have medication in there.” He gave a shaky laugh. “Luckily for me. And your quick thinking.” He turned his head slightly so he could kiss their collarbone and murmur, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I wish I could help more.” They felt inadequate. They’d never dealt with trauma of their own, how could they help Spy with his? They stroked his hair, keeping their breathing slow so he could try to match it. 

Spy shook his head again. “I’m just sorry I woke you, that you saw…that.” He sighed. “I wish I could tell when they’re coming, so I could… I don’t know. Retreat. So no one… So you wouldn’t have to see me like this.”

“I don’t mind. I mean, I don’t want you to feel like that, but I want to take care of you when you do,” they offered. “I just don’t really know what to do besides help you breathe.” 

“It’s enough,” Spy assured them, crossing his arms over his chest to hold Pyro’s upper arms. “It’s enough.”

They kissed the top of his head. It took quite some time before they began to drift off again, Spy still cradled against their chest.


	7. Monday, Oct  21st

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> got to add the pegging tag! :D

**Monday, Oct  21st**

The two of them spent the remainder of the weekend together, until early Monday morning. They arranged to meet the next weekend. They headed back to their respective teams and jobs, seeing each other only during battle. The new RED Engineer was a force to be reckoned with, and Pyro seemed to be leading the BLU Spy right into the man’s nest, over and over. The BLU had to deal with death by Engineer quite a few times before Pyro finally let up. 

Pyro was happy to see Dell again and they got along just as well as they used to, to their overwhelming happiness.

  
  


**Friday, Oct 25th**

Pyro and Spy met again on Friday night. Pyro had brought a few things to share, besides some more information about their RED Spy and how things were going with him and Dell. This time they’d caught a ride to Teufort with Dell, wanting to spend a bit more time with him this weekend. They only planned to stay Friday evening with their BLU Spy this time. 

“What was that about?” Spy demanded as soon as they were alone in the motel, laughing. 

“I’m guessing you mean me driving you into Dell?” 

“Yes, that!”

“The RED Spy asked me to.” They grinned. “He’s got it so bad for Dell; you were right.”

Spy couldn’t help grinning back. “Why would he ask you that—and why would you cooperate with him?” Still, he couldn’t help being pleased that he’d been right.

“I’m enjoying having him ask me for favours. And telling Dell about it afterwards.” They laughed. “He came to ask me if Dell likes men or women, too.”

“What does he give you in return for these favours, mm?” Spy mock-grumbled. “Are they better than the  _ favours  _ I give you?” He undid his suit jacket with a smirk. “Though I do like you reporting these favours back to your Engineer. That’s almost Spy-level deviousness. I approve.” He took the jacket off and began unbuttoning his shirt. “And? What did you tell him?”

“I told him Dell prefers men. And I think they might have sex this weekend,” they laughed. “And you know your favours are better.” They kissed Spy’s bare chest, stripping off their own clothes until they were just down to briefs. 

“Wait, wait—” Spy playfully pushed Pyro away. “They might have sex this weekend and we’re  _ here,  _ instead of  _ there,  _ where we could be  _ watching  _ this fucking—literally—train wreck?  _ Merde, á quoi penses-tu?” _ he demanded. 

“Would you rather be spying on them, or here with me?” They smirked, flopping back on the bed as though Spy had pushed them much harder. 

“Would it bother you if I said I honestly don’t know?” Spy said, only half-teasing.

“Rude,” Pyro said, but they were laughing. “I brought a few things, but now I don’t know if I want to share.”

“Oh, come now.” Spy stripped off the rest of his clothing slowly and seductively before joining Pyro on the bed, crawling up to lie beside them. “You want to share with your Spy, don’t you?”

“Yes,” they sighed, as though very put upon. “I do.” They pulled their bag up on the bed and dug out a photo book, handing it to Spy.

Spy actually rubbed his hands together with delight, beaming at Pyro. “Let’s look together, shall we?” He motioned for them to move up against the headboard. 

They both sat together at the head of the bed, and Pyro put the book across both of their thighs, flipping it open. The first page was of a BLU team, with a few extra people. Paxton Conagher, Dell’s father, had his wife with him, and a little toddler, and in his wife’s arms was a baby. 

The old uniforms didn’t have obvious class symbols, and Spy made his best guesses about which mercenary was which class. Some were obvious, but a few were much trickier. He held up a hand every time Pyro tried to excitedly correct him. “Don’t just fucking tell me!” he laughed. “Not until I’ve guessed them all.” Then he came to the little family and frowned thoughtfully. “Who are they? The Baby and the Toddler?”

Pyro laughed. “Yes, but also,” they tapped their finger over the toddler in the picture, “that’s Dell Conagher,” they tapped the baby, “and that’s me.” They were getting so used to Spy swearing that it almost didn’t register anymore.

Spy gently pulled the book over to himself so he could look at the picture more closely. “Although I’ll admit all babies look the same to me…not much of a family resemblance, is there?” He laughed. “I suppose it makes more sense to compare you  _ now  _ with Dell Conagher now.” He shook his head. “No, I still don’t see it, and I’m looking at both of your parents here, so it’s not simply that one of you took after your father and your mother.”

“Oh, they’re not my parents,” Pyro corrected, realizing they’d inadvertently given Spy the wrong idea. “That’s my mother.” They pointed to the Pyro. “And no one was a hundred percent sure who my father was, but…” They tapped their finger over the Heavy. “Mostly it was assumed it was him.” Then they pointed out the Scout, with his red hair, shrugging. They looked a lot more like their mother than anyone else. “But she didn’t really want a kid, especially a baby, and Mrs. Conagher lived at the base then, so I kind of ended up in her care. That was back when spouses lived on base.”

Spy glanced between the fully covered, masked—though clearly short and round—figure they’d pointed out as their mother, then at the Heavy and Scout. “That, I can see.” He cuddled in against Pyro again, shifting the book over. “I’m sorry she didn’t…  _ Merde _ . You still had a good childhood?” Yet again with Pyro’s life, Spy realized he needed to look at this from Pyro’s perspective, not how he thought Pyro’s life  _ should _ have been. If they’d been happy, that was good enough for him. 

They nodded. “I got to grow up with Dell, and the team was like a family.” 

They flipped through the next few pages. The team seemed to take a photo every year, and Spy watched Pyro and Dell grow to be children, then teenagers. The team did seem close. In some pictures the kids were held on hips or sitting on shoulders, and in a few of them, it seemed to catch one or more of the mercenaries mid-laugh. In a couple, the BLU Pyro was even unmasked—a fierce-looking woman with a blonde bob and a burn covering half her face, cutting into her hairline and ruining one of her eyes.

Pyro’s mother looked  _ terrifying,  _ but Spy didn’t say so out loud. It didn’t seem that they were particularly close or even that fond of each other, but Spy still didn’t want to upset Pyro with careless words. 

The pictures changed abruptly from BLU to RED. The RED team was made up of completely new mercenaries, and this time, Pyro was masked and holding their flamethrower. They were now the RED Pyro, a part of their own team. “Once Dell went to college I started working as a RED, on a different team. The BLU Team Vanguard retired.” They had also returned to murder the RED Team Vanguard and taken a new name, but Pyro didn’t think they needed to explain all that.

“You must have missed Dell, if you haven’t seen him since then.” He tapped the first team shot with Pyro. “Is it nice to be working with him again? Or... I suppose this is actually your first time working together?” Spy hoped their friendship was of the kind that seemed like no time had passed after reuniting. 

Pyro nodded, smiling. “I did miss him. I made friends with teammates through the years, but I always missed him. It is nice to be together again. We didn’t stay in contact, but he’s still the same Dell.” 

“The two of you are friends again?” Spy made himself wait before asking the next question, the one he  _ really  _ wanted an answer to. 

They nodded. It had been such a relief to find that their friendship was still there after all those years.

“I’m glad. You seem close to your team, but he understands you, doesn’t he?” Spy laughed. “Your words, I mean. The rest, too, but I meant your words, with your mask on. I’ve seen you talking to him, and he seems to understand. It must be difficult on the battlefield when no one can understand you.” Alright, a little longer and then he’d ask. He didn’t want to seem like he was only pumping Pyro for information. 

Pyro shrugged, then nodded. Though they were friends with some of their current teammates, the Scout and Sniper in particular, it was different with Dell. They’d grown up together, they’d practically been siblings. It had been hard, not having a way to contact Dell all those years. Even Miss Pauling hadn’t been able to get them a way to talk to him. It really was nice to have Dell back, someone who could understand them all the time, instead of just some of the time. He’d always been able to understand him, even with a gas mask on. 

“So…” Spy grinned, glad to finally get at the meat of the matter. “How do you think your Engineer will react when he finds out  _ why _ your Spy wants him?” Spy suspected his counterpart wouldn’t tell the Engineer right away. He’d seduce him purely with sex first, gradually trying to make it kinkier and kinkier. He wasn’t sure the little deviant planned to ever tell the Engineer about the real source of his interest, but Spy fervently hoped the Engineer would find out.  _ Somehow.  _ Even if he had to do it himself.

“Well, why  _ does  _ he want that?” Pyro asked, unsure of why any Spy would want to be captured and tortured by a Conagher.

“He’s perverse?” Spy shrugged. “Though…” He turned to kiss Pyro’s cheek. “I’m sure much of the world would say the same about what we do,  _ mon feu.” _

Pyro laughed. “True. But Dell’s family really does torture spies. And not in a fun way.” They leaned into Spy. “You’re a willing participant, that’s what makes it different.”

“Yes, that family’s reputation preceeds them. I…have been warned.” Spy shivered, glad he was safe in Pyro’s arms. Pyro, who was friends with the last active Conagher. Though, upon further reflection, he wasn’t sure if that offered him protection, or painted a target on his back. 

“I _was_ planning on keeping my distance from Dell Conagher, at least for a little while, but _someone,”_ he pinched Pyro’s arm, “decided to drive me into him over and over.” Spy shuddered. “He’s probably imagining _me_ in that basement of his…though better that than imagining his own Spy there. For…teamwork, of course.” His expression was pure innocence. “Teammates shouldn’t want to torture one another.” He shook his head. “As I said, he’s perverse and a deviant. _I_ am a fucking willing participant, and have no desire to be anything else. Though, in all fairness, he wants to be a willing participant with your Engineer as well. I assume,” he added. 

“We’ll see, I guess.” Pyro squirmed under Spy’s pinches, laughing. “And he’s not gonna torture anyone here, that’s not his job. He’s not the type to hurt someone without a reason.” Pyro was sure that Dell had taken up that part of his family’s work, but he hadn’t said anything about it yet. It was likely something of a sensitive subject. 

“I know, he’s not going to go about torturing willy-nilly—at least I  _ hope  _ not, because the most logical target is yours truly, and I most certainly do not fucking fantasize about that! But what if someone invites him to torture him? Straps himself into his chair, as it were?”

“I don’t know,” they said, thoughtfully. “I don’t know if he’d enjoy it or not; we never talked about that. I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” they gave him a sideways look, “but a lot of people think that I’m innocent when it comes to that sort of thing.” They suspected even their Spy, their… boyfriend? had thought of them that way at first. Though it was fairly obviously their aesthetic that made people think that. They could easily be called childlike, what with their interests in unicorns and candy, but they were also a mercenary and had a sex life. 

“I notice everything,  _ mon feu,”  _ Spy assured them. “Well, enough about those menaces—even if one of them is your friend and the other may very well be getting fucked by your friend this very weekend, he’s still a menace, I’m afraid. Just now, though, I think we have better things to attend to, don’t you?” He rolled onto his side so he could slowly grind his erection against Pyro’s thigh. He wasn’t sure if it was Pyro calling him a ‘willing participant’ or the thought of his enemies torturing each other that had shifted his mood, but now talk was the farthest thing from his mind. 

“You do?” they asked, innocently. “Did you happen to notice I brought another surprise?”

“I—I said I  _ notice  _ things, not that I go rummaging through your belongings!” Spy laughed. “But if that’s an invitation, I’m happy to accept.”

“Nope! Close your eyes, it’s a surprise.” 

“It even fucking rhymes,” Spy said dryly. 

They made sure Spy’s eyes were closed and then they grabbed him by his thighs and tugged him right to the edge of the bed, moving him so he was up on his hands and knees. “You stay there,” they instructed. 

“Alright. I like this so far,” Spy purred. 

He heard them rummaging through their bag, heard the pop of a cap coming off a bottle of something and then some slick sounds. Then there was a gentle press of something smooth against his asshole and Pyro’s hands were on his hips. 

“Ah!” Spy jolted forward a little, only to be held and pulled back easily, as though Pyro had been expecting this reaction. “P-Pyro, that’s, ah, quite the surprise!”

“It’s ok, though?” they checked. They were wearing a strap on, bought for them by one of their previous Scouts. They had thought Spy might enjoy it too.

“It is,” Spy laughed, “but I feel I should warn you that many men—women, too—won’t react as pleasantly as me to a surprise of this nature.” He’d actually been yearning for a good fucking and been wondering how to broach—pun very much intended—the subject with Pyro. He liked fucking them, of course, but while he’d had sex with all kinds of people, he tended to prefer being fucked rather than fucking. “I hope you’ll let me see what you have back there when you’re through with me.”

“Of course,” they said. They felt they knew Spy well enough to know how he’d react to a surprise like that. They pressed the toy up against Spy again and this time, with the help of a hand to guide them, they pushed inward, opening Spy up. They kept their other hand on his back, and once they were in him, and he seemed comfortable enough for them to start thrusting, they grabbed him by the hips again. 

“Ohhhhh, fuck, Pyro…” Spy groaned, falling forward onto his forearms to get a steeper angle. “Is this the right time or the wrong time to tell you I’ve been using toys when I can’t fucking have you?” He revelled in the sensation of those powerful hands pinning him, keeping him exactly where they wanted him. 

“It’s always the right time for that,” they laughed, then considered. “Well, maybe not in front of other people.” They pulled him back by the hips to meet their thrusts, keeping their pace slow for now. Spy was enjoying it—they could easily see and hear that—and they wanted to continue that way. Spy was always very good to them when he fucked them, and they knew anal sex could be painful if they went too fast. Still, he seemed more than comfortable and they were sure he’d be ready for more quickly.

Spy kept his limbs loose and flexible, enjoying Pyro using him for now. He wasn’t a pillow princess, to make the top do all the work, but Pyro seemed to be enjoying themself, too. “Have you done this before?” he asked, the final syllable drowned out by a moan as Pyro slid across his prostate. 

They heard the moan and slowly repeated the last roll of their hips to get that sound out of Spy again. “Yes,” they said, “more than a few times.” They enjoyed this side of fucking, even without the physical sensation of actually penetrating someone. 

“It shows,” Spy gasped, after another moan. “It definitely shows.” It didn’t take long for him to start actively pressing back against Pyro, moving with them to fuck himself deeper, harder. “You feel so good.  _ Baise-moi, mon feu, plus fort!” _

Pyro grinned, starting to snap their hips forward more forcefully. Spy was pushing back into them and his begging, though in French, was very clear. They fucked him hard and fast for some time, glad that they had the stamina to keep up with him and satisfy him. Once his cries started getting louder and longer, they stopped, grabbing his hips firmly and pulling their toy out almost to the tip, and then pressing back into him, with agonizing slowness.

_ “Pyro!”  _ Spy cried, anguished, trying frantically to push Pyro deeper only to be thwarted by their unrelenting grip.  _ “S’il vous plait, s’il vous plait!”  _ he begged.  

Pyro’s smile turned wicked as he begged them for more. “Oh, were you close?” they teased. “Let’s let you cool down for a bit.” They continued their slow pace.

Spy’s fingers raked the sheets, pulling up furrows and digging troughs. “Pyro, please, please! Please, faster, fuck, I’m begging you!” He managed to switch to English, but his accent was noticeably thicker than usual. He kicked his feet helplessly, attempting to spur Pyro on, but he couldn’t reach them. 

After about a minute of Spy struggling and crying out, Pyro finally gave in and began to fuck him just as hard and fast as they had before. They considered slowing down once he got close to his orgasm again, just to be cruel, just to prolong their sex a little longer, but Spy gave a particularly needy gasp of their class name and they gave in, reaching around his hip to stroke his cock while they fucked him.

“YES!” Spy howled, throwing himself forward and back on Pyro’s cock in perfect counterpoint to their thrusts, driving them as deep as he could before reluctantly pulling away again—knowing the friction would be worth it. “Yes, Pyro, please,  _ s’il te plait,  _ yes,  _ mon dieu,  _ Pyro,  _ je jouis…!”  _ He came with a wild cry, fucking himself on Pyro’s cock and thrusting into their hand. 

Pyro gave a pleased hum, giving him a few more strokes until they were sure he was finished. Spy half collapsed under them and they eased out of him. “Good?” they asked, breathing a little hard themself, sitting at the edge of the bed.

“Good,” Spy confirmed, a little squeakily. Once he felt Pyro slide free, he allowed himself to completely collapse facedown on the bed. “Fuck,” he groaned, managing to wobble his head around so he wasn’t smothering himself. “That was… Oh, fuck!” He shuddered his way through an aftershock, limbs tensing and relaxing again. 

Pyro unstrapped their harness and put it, toy attached, on the bedside table before collapsing on the bed next to Spy, drawing him up into their arms to kiss him. 

“That was quite the surprise,” Spy remarked dryly, happily cuddling against Pyro and kissing them back. 

“Mmm, yes, and you liked it,” they retorted.

“Yes, I did,” Spy agreed, eyes playfully downcast. “But now you know I’m going to want this all the time, don’t you?”

“I’m alright with that,” they laughed, “as long as you’re alright with me being cruel and going nice and slow sometimes.”

_ “That  _ I didn’t care for so much,” Spy grumbled. “But if that’s the cost, then yes _ ,  _ I’m willing to pay it. Although,” he wheedled, reaching up to stroke Pyro’s cheek, “it doesn’t do anything for  _ you  _ to draw it out, and it does a great deal of fucking harm to  _ me,  _ so it’s probably best if you don’t,  _ n’est pas?” _

“Oh, come on, it’s always better after waiting for it.” 

“I…disagree,” Spy laughed, his tone making it clear that he did agree and just didn’t  _ want _ to.

They just smiled, kissing him and pinching the three burn scars in the shape of a smiley face they’d left on his arm. Once Spy had recovered a little, he could take care of them. 

 

*

 

After a few hours with Spy, Pyro met back up with Dell at the diner and got a ride home in his old truck. It was packed full of supplies from a few of Teufort’s shops. They didn’t elaborate on where they had gone, or who they had been with. Dell didn’t need to know that.

  
  



	8. Friday November 1st

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a short and sweet chapter. Dancing in the Dark has finally caught up with Idée Fixe! Now they'll both be posted every Sunday for awhile.

**Friday November 1** **st**

The next weekend, Pyro had more news to share on the subject of Dell and the RED Spy. 

“They’ve started having sex. And hopefully more than that, after I talked to both of them,” Pyro laughed. “Apparently Dell hit Spy by accident one night, and both him and Spy seemed to enjoy it, but Dell was nervous about really hurting him. I think they’ve worked things out a little, since then.”

Spy sighed blissfully. Gossip was like a combination of a delicious meal and a post-orgasm glow. He was fairly certain he could live on gossip alone if he needed to. “You’ll spoil me,” he groaned. “I only wish I had something this good to give you in return! Does your Engineer know about the video yet?”

“What video?” Pyro asked.

“What vi—mm. Fuck. No, I suppose that would have been after…” Spy mused aloud. “Ah…I don’t suppose it’s not too late to drop the subject…?”

“Why, is it bad?”

“It’s pretty fucking bad.”

Pyro frowned, but they trusted Spy to have their best interests at heart. “I’ll drop it, then.” 

Spy audibly sighed with relief. “Thank you,  _ mon feu.  _ I know you’re not the innocent you’re perceived as—I, better than anyone!—but… Well, if you don’t know about it, I don’t want to talk about it. I wouldn’t with  _ anyone _ .” He actually looked a little pale and there were a few beads of sweat on his forehead.  _ “ _ I just hope your Engineer knows what he’s getting himself into. Not that he’s an innocent, either, but… _ Il est tordu.” _

They nodded. If Spy looked so unhappy about it, they probably didn’t want to know about it.

“I helped out RED Spy,” they continued with their update. “I’m hoping he’ll be more tolerable to me. And… I may have mentioned us to him,” they admitted. 

“You  _ have  _ been busy,” Spy praised them. “Maybe I can make a Spy out of you yet, hmm?” He blinked. “Wait. You told that  _ fils—”  _ seeing Pyro’s expression he corrected himself, “that  _ deviant  _ about us? Why? What on Earth possessed you to do so?” he demanded. 

“He asked?” Pyro shrugged. 

“He asked,” Spy repeated. “He asked if you and I were fu— _ involved— _ and you simply answered him?”

“Not specifically if it was you, but yes.” Maybe that had been stupid of them, but Spy didn’t seem too angry. “I don’t think there’s much he can do with the information, honestly. We know about him and Engineer, and about his masochism. And I think you know more about that than I do, even. And no one seems to care anymore if REDs and BLUs are close. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your Soldier, the BLU Soldier, has been spending time at the RED base.”

Spy snorted. “Do you mean I know more about masochism in general, or more about my counterpart’s specifically?” He stood, pacing the small space between the bed and the door. This was a lot to process all at once. “When will you realize,  _ cher— _ I notice everything? That being said—a blind elephant would notice those two.”

“About the other Spy in particular.” Pyro laughed. “Well, then, I was thinking maybe next week we could stay at one of our bases? If that wouldn’t be too strange.”

Surprised, Spy turned to face Pyro again. “Stay…? No, not strange at all. It might be nice.” He smiled at them, kneeling beside the bed and taking one of their hands. “Not hiding away in a dingy motel like your mistress. Yes, that does have a certain appeal. If you’d be comfortable doing so. However!” He tapped the back of Pyro’s hand with one finger in mild rebuke. “There seems to be some confusion about the flow of information—you gossip to  _ me  _ about those two, not the other way around! I don’t want him knowing anything about my— _ our— _ sex life,  _ s’il te plait!” _

“I have a feeling he would have found out next weekend when you showed up to spend time with me?” They smiled, taking Spy’s hand and kissing it. “Plus… if we’re at a base, we can use a dispenser after I burn you so you won’t scar permanently. Though, I did have an idea for a permanent scar. Maybe one behind your ear?” It would be covered by his mask, but easy to feel and touch.

_ “Peut-être,”  _ Spy reluctantly agreed, looking grumpy about it. He quickly perked up as Pyro continued. “Ohhhh…” he purred, nuzzling Pyro’s hand and going a little limp. “I…may have been thinking about you giving me one,” he admitted.  _ “Oui,  _ that sounds like the perfect place.”

Pyro grinned. “Good. I’ve been thinking about it too.” They had been having lots of fantasies of pinning Spy down and burning him however they pleased. “If we’re going to be fucking in my room, we might have to gag you,” they said, suggestively.

“Y-yes, I suppose you might…” Spy went even limper, held up only by Pyro’s grip on his hand. “Can’t let anyone find out you’re not as innocent as you appear, can we?” he asked, breathlessly. 

“Maybe.” They pushed him back down to the bed, holding him down so they could press a kiss behind his ear. 

“Is that where you’re going to put it? What are you going to use?” Between their conversation and Pyro pinning him down, Spy was so hard it was almost painful and he couldn’t help rutting against Pyro’s thigh.

“I was thinking a cigarette,” they murmured, their lips against Spy’s ear. “You seem to like having cigarettes put out on you.”

“D-do I?” Spy gulped, wriggling helplessly, completely undone by Pyro’s words alone. “Fuck. One of mine?”

“Mhm.” They leaned over and grabbed his suit jacket, feeling for the inner pocket and pulling out his cigarette case. They grabbed their lighter from the pillow and lit one, enjoying a long drag before offering it to Spy.

“I can hardly wait.” Spy took the cigarette happily. “Though I hope you won’t leave me untouched until then?” He arched his hips as much as he could with Pyro sitting on him, reminding them of his need.

“You keep that,” they said of the cigarette, shifting back in Spy’s lap to let his cock slide up against their clit, before readjusting to let him press into them with slick ease. The slow penetration drew a moan out of Pyro. They rolled their hips on top of Spy, letting his cock sink deeper.

“I’m happy to share,” Spy offered, cigarette bobbing as he spoke. Their apparent generosity quickly seemed more like a challenge—the shifting and pleasure threatened to at the very least make him drop ash on his chest, if not the whole damn thing. He held it firmly between his lips, looking up at Pyro and wondering if they’d done this on purpose. 

“I’ll take it when I want it.” They straightened on top of him, up on their knees, until only the head of his cock was still in them, then pressed back down. They gasped at the feeling of him hitting some deep part of them, in a way no other position could reach. Tirelessly, Pyro rode Spy’s cock, fingernails biting into their partner.

“So I’ve noticed,” Spy sighed, going limp beneath them. Between the feeling of them wrapped around him and the constant small pains they inflicted on him, he was in constant, restless motion—as much as he could move with their weight pinning him in place.

This time it was Pyro who was determined to outlast Spy. The ability to cum multiple times would help them with that. Even after a few trembling, gasping orgasms, they continued to ride him. They took the cigarette from between his lips as he grew closer to his own climax.

Spy tensed beneath them when they took the cigarette, his hips jolting wildly as he stared up at them in mute anticipation. 

Pyro turned Spy’s head slightly as his breath caught and they could tell he was right on the edge of cumming. They pressed the cigarette behind his ear, stubbing it out and leaving another perfectly round burn on his skin. 

Spy went wild, every muscle flexing and arching helplessly—not that it did him any good. Pyro easily kept him in check. He cried out, cumming inside them without warning for himself or them. He tilted his head farther, offering himself to Pyro eagerly. 

Pyro moaned as Spy came inside them. They took the cigarette away now that it had cooled, flicking it towards the ashtray—and missing completely. They rubbed the tips of their fingers over the new burn behind Spy’s ear, grinning. “You like this one?” They were still a bit breathless.

“Y-yes.” Spy could barely manage the single word, shivering as Pyro traced the fresh wound but still arching into their touch. 

They looked down at him affectionately and finally pulled themself off him to lie next to him, wrapped up in his arms. They kissed his shoulder. They could feel an ‘I love you’ right beneath the surface and they kept it in, carefully. Pyro was pretty sure Spy wouldn’t want them to say that. Especially so soon. 

Pyro gave a long sigh, closing their eyes. “Would it be terrible if we had a nap?” It was only the afternoon, but they were worn out. 

“Certainly not!” Spy laughed. “In fact, it would be terrible  _ not  _ to have a nap.”

“You’re making me lazy,” they accused, but they were smiling. “At least I haven’t made you clumsy.”

“I should hope not!” Spy yawned, for real this time. “And I endeavour to make everyone lazy.” He blew them a kiss. 

They smiled, pressing a real kiss to his shoulder. 


	9. Friday November 8th

**Friday November 8** **th**

 

Even though he knew it would make a negligible difference, Spy tried harder than usual to avoid respawn on Monday, wanting to give the burn behind his ear as much time to scar as he possibly could. He took fewer risks and spent more time cloaked rather than simply disguised. A brief vendetta against the enemy Sniper who’d finally brought him down kept him amused for the rest of the day. 

He was preoccupied with his new scar for the rest of the week, touching it constantly without noticing until his Demo, laughing, asked if it was his first time wearing a wire. He stroked and pinched it while jerking himself off, wishing it hadn’t completely healed the instant he died, that it still  _ hurt _ . He thought about his weekend plans with Pyro constantly, to the point that his Soldier demanded to know what he was smiling about all the time. Naturally, he didn’t respond. 

Pyro may have had a similar expression on their face all week—a somewhat dopey smile—but thankfully it was hidden for the most part, and no one asked them any questions. 

Finally it was Friday evening. Spy changed into a plain black suit and drove to the RED base—leaving his car a safe distance away, but also ensuring he wouldn’t have to walk far. A brief tap of his watch and he was invisible, making it absurdly easy to enter the enemy stronghold. He probably didn’t even need that precaution, given the boldness of his Soldier and the RED Demo, but simply walking in went against his nature. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized he had no idea where he was going or how to find Pyro. Sighing, he resigned himself to invisibly wandering the base until he found them. 

Meanwhile, Pyro was having a similar realization. They hadn't made a plan to meet Spy anywhere. How was he going to find them? So they stayed in their room, the one labelled with the Pyro class symbol, hoping that Spy would think to check there first. 

As it turned out, Spy needn’t have worried—aesthetics aside, the bases were laid out on nearly identical floor-plans, and he quickly found the room assigned to the Pyro. He knocked softly on the door. 

Pyro perked up, hoping that this would be their Spy and not some teammate bothering them to play poker, since the team always played on Friday nights and Pyro was known for having a terrible poker-face. Even if they wore their mask and no one could read their expression, they tended to squirm when they had an exciting hand and it gave them away every time. It was Spy, to their relief—or rather, an empty hallway—but they opened the door wide enough for Spy to get in, giving him space to come in before closing the door. They were just in their respirator and civilian clothes, and they took the respirator off as soon as they shut the door.

Spy decloaked immediately, smiling at Pyro but standing a little awkwardly. He wanted to sweep them up and kiss them, but he found himself suddenly, uncharacteristically uncertain. Nearly  _ shy _ .

Pyro set down their respirator and went to Spy, wrapping him up in their arms. They tugged at the bottom of his mask, looking up at him with a smile. 

Spy smiled back, hoping his expression hadn’t mirrored Pyro’s all week. No wonder his Soldier—not known for his powers of observation—had noticed! Still, here and now he was free to express himself as much as he chose. Pulling off his mask and tossing it carelessly aside, he bent to kiss Pyro passionately, guiding one of their hands to the scar behind his ear. 

Immediately, they dug in their fingernails, scratching at it mercilessly. They were breathing hard when they pulled away from the kiss. "I missed you," they said, pulling off their shirt and sitting at the edge of the bed, tugging Spy down to sit with them. They had actually had several fantasies of cornering Spy during battle and fucking him right there on the battlefield but they had contained themself. They knew that kind of thing could get them in far more trouble than an off-hours affair.

“I missed you too.” Spy sat, already pawing at his own clothing. 

Pyro and Spy stripped almost frantically, as though their time apart had been much longer than five days of work. Pyro pushed Spy down onto their bed, grabbing his tie from where it had fallen as he took off his clothes. They tied it around his head, leaving a thick knot of it in his mouth as a gag. They grinned down at him triumphantly, taking some cord from their headboard and binding his wrists too. They had prepared for this yesterday, eager to see Spy tied to their bed. They were already aroused, eager, and they didn't want to wait any longer. They straddled Spy, ready to ride him, their favourite position. For now, however, they sat on his stomach, his cock pressed against their ass, and grabbed a fat box of matches from their bedside table. Taking out a match, they struck it. Even just that, the sound and smell of the struck match, made them shudder a little. "You ready?" 

Spy submitted to all of this easily—eagerly, even—holding out his wrists for Pyro. Unsure how long Pyro intended to tease them both up until they lit the match, he rutted up against them, making little plaintive noises through the impromptu gag. He nodded emphatically. 

They let the fiery head of the match trail over their soft tummy, then down their thigh, leaving a red path behind it. Finally the match got to Spy's skin and they let it continue to wander, across Spy's flat stomach and up his chest. A few of his hairs caught fire and they grinned. "I've got another surprise for you this time." They ground down against Spy, enjoying the feel of him rutting up against them.

Spy whined, eyes mutely, helplessly pleading. 

They leaned over to their bedside table again, taking what looked like a small sheet of paper and putting it just below Spy's chest. They dropped the still-lit match on it and suddenly the fire burst into a ball of flame on Spy. It was there and gone so fast that it didn't burn him. Pyro was running their fingers over his unharmed—but now hairless—stomach immediately, making sure the fire was completely out.

Flinching, Spy cried out, muffled by the gag, trying to get away from the sudden flash and heat. It took him several rapid heartbeats to calm again. 

"That's it," Pyro said, stroking his chest and neck sweetly. They had known that lighting flash paper on Spy would get a reaction like that and honestly that was why they did it. The hint of fear in Spy's expression was a thrill. They took another small square and this time they lit it in their hand and dropped it onto Spy. It barely touched him before it was gone, but the flash was big and bright and Pyro's eyes were lit up with it.

Watching those thoughts dance across Pyro’s face, Spy couldn’t help narrowing his eyes at them in rebuke...but he also couldn’t deny that he felt an echo of their obvious arousal at his fear. 

Pyro stretched forwards, pressing a kiss to Spy's cheek. They trapped his erection between the two of them, grinding down on him, letting his cock slide up against their clit. They lit another match, stubbing this one out on his side.

Spy squirmed frantically again, this time not trying to escape but to give his cock some relief. He was largely unsuccessful, held neatly just where Pyro wanted him. He screamed into the gag, hips rocking almost hard enough to shake Pyro loose. 

Pyro lit another match, but just as they were about to grind it into Spy's skin, they heard a knock, followed by someone opening their door. 

“Hey, Firebug, are you—“ Engineer came to a dead stop at the sight in front of him—Pyro and what he assumed was the maskless enemy Spy, both naked, the Spy bound and gagged, a lit match still held between Pyro’s fingers. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and he thought his eyes might bug out of his head. 

Pyro was so surprised they dropped the match on Spy. They quickly smothered it under their palm, looking at Engineer with disbelief. Of all the times for Dell to not wait for an answer when he knocked! “Not the best time,” they squeaked.

Spy hadn’t heard the knock, and he frowned at Pyro grumpily when they dropped the match. He followed their gaze, barely able to see the Engineer past them. He instinctively tried to get away, to cover himself, but Pyro didn’t move. 

“I, ah, I see that.” Engineer could see the Spy’s erection—might never  _ un _ see it—but he still felt he had to ask his rival, “You’re, ah...happy to be here?”

Spy nodded emphatically, trying to tell Engineer to go away with his voice completely muffled. 

Pyro covered their face with their hands briefly. "Dell, please get out of my room." Their voice was surprisingly steady for the situation. 

“Yep.” Engineer turned tail and ran. 

Spy seemed frozen, waiting to see how Pyro reacted. 

Pyro laughed, feeling a huge rush of relief now that Dell was gone and the door was closed. The bases had no locking doors, except those that were upgraded by mercenaries for their own purposes—specifically, in RED’s case, the Spy’s room and the Engineer’s garage. 

"You ok?" they checked. They didn't want Dell's interruption to ruin their weekend. Spy was very private, and hopefully he was able to move on from that.

Spy audibly grumbled while he considered. His erection had dwindled, but he decided it could be coaxed into returning. He nodded at last. 

Pyro rocked their hips back and forth over Spy's cock, and when he was hard enough that they could feel him throb against them, they took his cock in their hand and guided him into them. They straightened up again, trembling as they slid down on his cock, sheathing him in themself. They lit another match, stubbing this one out on their own thigh, letting the hot blackened bits crumble down onto Spy's skin. The next match was for Spy and this one was ground out against his chest. The interruption was pretty much forgotten by the time they'd put out the second match.

A small part of Spy’s mind couldn’t help dwelling on the Engineer and what he might do with what he’d seen, but Pyro was an excellent distraction from those thoughts. They felt so good around him—in this vulnerable position he felt more like they were fucking him—and the pain of the matches was making him feel wonderfully loose, almost adrift from his body. He found that having the gag to bite down on helped with the initial spark of pain. 

Pyro bent over Spy, rocking their hips fast and hard into him, their cries soft and bitten off as they tried to keep quiet. "Fuck, fuck," they panted. Their hands roamed Spy's skin, digging in wherever there was a burn and using their fingernails against the reddened and sensitive skin around the burns. They lit another match, grinding it out against their inner thigh, cumming around Spy as they did. Everything felt so good and the fire was so overwhelming, they couldn't seem to come down from the high.

Feeling Pyro finish, Spy’s eyes darted frantically between them and where they joined, wordlessly pleading. He was close, so close, and it was agony, but he wanted...

Pyro looked down at him, biting their lip to try and contain their cries. They shook their head. They wanted him to finish with them, to finish in them, but they weren't done yet. It took them another few minutes to build up to another climax, shuddering and bowing over Spy's body. "Please, please," they begged.

Nails sinking into his palms, Spy closed his eyes, his entire being focused on holding on until Pyro was finished. He had to stop, hips completely still, a few times, though Pyro’s movement still provided plenty of stimulation. He let out a soft sound, nearly a sob, when they finally spoke. He wasn’t definitively sure what they were asking, but he couldn’t wait any longer. Delaying his pleasure was dreadful, but he couldn’t deny that the resulting orgasm was that much better for the delay, and this time was no exception. He bucked so hard he managed to lift Pyro slightly before they dropped back down on him. 

Pyro seemed to slowly melt down onto Spy, closing their eyes. They gave a long sigh, smiling and pressing a few kisses to Spy's neck and jaw. "Mmm," they practically purred. 

“Mmm,” Spy agreed, a sound he could make even with the gag in his mouth.

They stifled a giggle, taking the gag out. "Want me to uncuff you?"

“Only if you want to,” Spy purred, spitting out a few wayward bits of fluff and stretching his jaw. 

"Mm, not yet." They nestled into Spy's neck, stroking his burns gently. "But we should get you to the dispenser soon, so these won't scar." It would be a pity to waste some of their afterglow going to the end of the hall to let Spy heal, but worth it for Spy to not be constantly scarred by their play. 

Again, they found themself wanting to say 'I love you,' but they stuffed it back down. They'd never said that to anyone they had sex with.

Spy groaned, his pleasure in Pyro petting his burns somewhat spoiled by the reminder that he’d have to get up—and get rid of them—soon. “Do I want to know what incident prompted putting a dispenser in the hallway with the bedrooms?” he asked, stalling. 

"It's RED tradition," Pyro laughed. "Ever since we had a particularly dumb Scout. And honestly, I'm ...pretty clumsy." They made sure the new Engineers kept up the tradition of building a dispenser in the hallway and doing the upkeep. It was nice to be able to stumble to the dispenser if someone got in a fight or had an accident.

Spy snorted. “I had a feeling it was Scout-related. And yes, you are.” At first Spy had chalked up their clumsiness to limited visibility and movement in the fire suit, but they proved equally clumsy unencumbered. 

Pyro grinned. "I'm not sure you're supposed to agree with me, but it's true." They had given up trying to be anything else. They just couldn't seem to keep track of their own body all the time. Most people seemed to always know where their hands and feet were, but Pyro couldn't always manage it. 

They heaved another sigh. "We really should get you up." They rolled off his side, kissing his shoulder before they sat up, undoing the bondage that kept him attached to the bed.

“Would you prefer that I lie,  _ mon feu _ ?” Spy asked, sweetly and innocently. “I rather thought you didn’t care for lying.”

"You know I like when you tell the truth," they agreed, bending down to kiss him again.

“Well, you leave me in an impossible position.”

"Mmm, maybe. You seem to like the positions I put you in, though," they teased. "Come on, get up."

“Mmm,” Spy shivered, “that I do.” He rolled onto his front, wincing a little as the sheets scraped his fresh burns. “ _ Non _ ,” he protested feebly, displeased that Pyro had caught on to his little game. 

“Do you want permanent burns?” they asked.

“No.” Spy sighed, but sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Well, yes,” he laughed, fingering the burn behind his ear, “but not all of—you know what I mean.”

“I know.” They kissed the burn behind his ear. “It’s at the end of the hall, want me to come with you?”

Spy nodded. Not feeling like getting dressed again, he was about to ask Pyro if they had a robe or something he could borrow, when his sex-addled brain remembered he could simply cloak. “Actually, that might look suspicious. You wait here, I’ll be back in a moment.” He turned to kiss them on the lips. 

They hummed into the kiss, releasing Spy reluctantly to let him leave.

Spy hadn’t been completely sure a RED dispenser would heal him, but it whirred to life when it sensed him approach, cloak or no, and bathed him with healing vapours. 

He was tempted to briefly uncloak—he didn’t get healed terribly often, and he always enjoyed watching his wounds shrink and disappear. It also helped distract from the unpleasantness of healing. He gritted his teeth as the burns got more painful, then itched abominably, sighing with relief when he felt them vanish at last. 

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that his ‘healing’ tended to happen through respawn.

He returned to Pyro looking exactly how he had at the beginning of the evening. 

He was a little torn—while he liked the idea of them fucking and burning through the weekend, he wasn’t sure how many more times he wanted to heal and present Pyro with a blank canvas. 

Pyro welcomed him back to bed with open arms and kisses, letting him lie on top of them this time, stroking his hair. They loved that he didn't wear his mask with them.

“Much better.” Spy happily nested himself again, nuzzling against Pyro’s hand. “We don’t have to get up again or anything, do we?”

“No, I think we’re good here. Hopefully Dell doesn’t actually need something urgently,” they laughed. 

“Oh,  _ salope,  _ I forgot about that! Do you need to go do, ah…damage control?”

“No… no…” They grinned. Mostly they just didn’t want to get up. “Hopefully we can just never talk about that again.” Dell was likely to pretend it hadn’t happened, that or apologize profusely.

“That suits me.” Spy sighed. “I hope I haven’t damaged your friendship. I…care about you, and I don’t want to cause you any pain—though clearly the reverse is not true!” he teased, trying to distract from what he’d just admitted. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” they assured him, rubbing a hand over his chest, affectionately. “I care about you too,” they said, happy to finally be able to express at least a little of what they were feeling.

“I—I’m glad.” Spy noticed that all his chest hair had grown back after he’d used the dispenser. “You’re sure you don’t mind me spending the night? I can leave if you’d like. Come back tomorrow, or…”

“No, I want you here,” they said, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You should stay. Unless you have other things to do this weekend.”

“No, not at all. I just don’t want to intrude in your private space.” They’d spent weekends together at the motel, but this was different. 

Spy rolled onto his side, taking in Pyro’s room properly for the first time. Though it was clean, it was cluttered. There were unfinished projects on almost all the surfaces—knitting, paintings, cross stitch, scrapbooking. All sorts of collections of things arranged together. There were colourfully painted ashtrays everywhere, mostly full of burnt stubs of matches and a few cigarette butts. There was a fat orange cat in the corner, sleeping in a laundry basket. 

He watched the cat intently, trying to decide if it was real or stuffed—or a formerly real cat that had been stuffed, he supposed. It suddenly let out a loud snore. 

“Do you often bring strange men to your room?” he asked, flirtatiously. 

“Are you strange?” they teased. “I’ve never brought anyone besides a teammate into my room, though. If that’s what you meant.”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call myself  _ normal.”  _ It pleased Spy that he was one of the few people who’d been allowed in Pyro’s room—and the only BLU. “Has anyone from your current team been in your room?”

“Besides Dell?” they laughed. “Only Sniper. And not for this! Just because he likes drawing too.”

“The two of you…draw together?” It was an unlikely and very entertaining image. 

They nodded. “He’s really good, I can show you some if you want.” But they didn’t really want to get up.

“I would like that,” Spy agreed, rolling over again so he could drape an arm around Pyro’s waist so they couldn’t get up. 

“Maybe later,” they agreed, putting an arm under his head like a cushion. 

It wasn’t long before they were both asleep.


	10. Saturday November 9th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the same as the second part of chapter 11 of Idée Fixe, so if you're reading Idée Fixe too you've already read this! It's just important in order to read both stories separately. 
> 
> The two spies are not fond of each other.

**Saturday November 9** **th**

BLU Spy slipped out of Pyro's room on Saturday, cloaked as Pyro, heading to the kitchen to grab them both some food. Pyro had fallen asleep again and was quietly snoring on the bed. The BLU had no problem fending for himself.

“Stalking about the enemy base, are we?” The RED Spy asked in French, his accent crisp and impeccable as always, unlike his so-called counterpart’s country drawl. He decloaked, leaning casually against a counter with a cigarette in his mouth and a bottle of wine beside him. “No matter.” 

The BLU hesitated, then uncloaked. "How did you spot me?" He felt his Pyro impression was pretty spot on. He certainly saw enough of them to know how they acted.

“Please. As though I don’t know the comings and goings—and food preferences,” he inclined his head at the sandwiches the BLU was holding, “of my teammates. Not all of us are as...relaxed...as you. Cigarette?” he offered, popping the wine bottle and pouring two generous glasses. 

Ah well, since he'd been discovered, he might as well go with it. He took his wine glass with a little shake of his head. The RED had terrible taste in wine. He leaned against the counter, lighting his own cigarette. "I didn't get the feeling that they're terribly picky about food," he admitted. "Though they do tend to make their own, I suppose."

“At this time of night, Pyro would be eating candy or chocolate. At most a...frozen burrito,” he added with a grimace of distaste. “I hope you’ve been enjoying my team’s hospitality?” He smirked. 

"I have, I think I'll be here more often," he smirked. He grimaced as he swallowed a mouthful wine. The RED liked them so dry it was nearly painful to drink. 

“So I’ve noticed.” The RED took a sip of his own. “Consorting with the enemy...” He shook his head with disapproval. “You know, I recommended against hiring you,” he said, casually. “There’s no use for a broken spy.”

"Interesting choice of words," the BLU laughed. "Considering what you want your Engineer to do to you."

The RED’s face went white behind his mask, his lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally forced out. He’d expected the wretch would be devastated by his jab, and was quite put out that, not only had he recovered remarkably quickly, he’d tried to turn it around. Of course, he wouldn’t succeed. “Personally, I was in favour of simply putting you out of your misery.”

The BLU Spy just smiled though the words stung. "You're going to have to do better than that if you want to hurt my feelings." He knew the RED Spy's weakness was Engineer and he was quite happy to needle in on that. "Does your Engineer know how you talk about Pyro? The two of them are good friends, aren't they?" he feigned ignorance. "For some reason you just can't bring yourself to say 'them', can you?"

“Again, I have simply no idea what you’re babbling about.” Still, sometimes a tactical retreat was the best option. “I’ll leave you to your breach of contract and bid you goodnight.”

BLU chuckled, pouring out the wine in the sink—the only decent place for it—and heading back to Pyro's room.

  
  



	11. Wednesday November 13th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, this chapter is also in Idée Fixe. It's important that we post this way so the stories can stand alone. 
> 
> Thanks everyone for your comments, they always mean so much to us!

**Wednesday November 13th**

Spy waited until the middle of the week, when he was reasonably certain the other Spy wouldn’t be lurking about—though, given his lack of professionalism, it was entirely possible he was—to approach the RED Pyro. The Pyro was doing dishes after dinner and humming. “Pyro? Might I have a moment of your time?” he asked, as sympathetically as he could. 

Pyro gave him a thumbs up, and stopped humming, the only sign that they were actually listening.

“You’ve been, ah, hosting the BLU Spy, haven’t you?” Spy asked, gently. 

They nodded, still not responding. They didn't particularly like their Spy, he had never once used their pronouns and tended not to talk to them at all.

“This would be easier if you removed your mask,” Spy suggested. 

Pyro didn't seem to react, and went back to humming.

“We are teammates, after all. I’m only trying to look after your best interests.”

Reluctantly, Pyro turned to face him, and they did not look impressed. "What did you want?"

“I’m concerned for you. You’ve had a fairly sheltered life, and that...man... is devious. You can’t trust him, or try to fathom his true motives. Do you understand?”

They just smiled. "I've been around spies all my life. I know when someone is trying to manipulate me, Spy. You'd think since I've been willing to help you with Engineer, and told Engineer he should give you a chance, that you'd be a little quieter about my choices."

Spy couldn’t quite keep his eyes from narrowing, but he managed to force a smile. “And...I appreciate your help,” he conceded, “which is why I want to help you in return. You can’t trust him. I admit that I don’t know his true purpose, but I am certain he is attempting to use you in some way.”

Pyro laughed. "I don't think you get our relationship and how it works." No way was a spy pretending to be into fire just to try and use them. He had a couple permanent scars from them now. That went well past lying. They finished the last of the dishes and set them on the rack to dry. "Anything else?"

“I...suppose not,” Spy admitted, knocked badly off balance. “I’m only trying to help,” he said again, almost plaintively. “I don’t want to see you hurt.” That much was true enough, aside from his natural interest in other people’s suffering. Fuck. The way his last few forays had gone, -he- was the useless Spy!

"You'd rather see the other Spy hurt?" Pyro confirmed. "You should stay out of our way if that's what you want, he's already got a couple scars from me."

 “Yes, I would!” Spy felt he was on slightly more solid ground now. “Yes, because he’s our  _ enemy _ .”

"Mhm," Pyro sounded disinterested now and was fidgeting with the dishes. They felt like this was over and they didn't really want to continue talking to Spy.

“Take care, then.” Spy turned and left. 


	12. Friday November 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> these two are so cute together

**Friday November 16**

The rest of the week, Pyro ignored the RED Spy. He was trying to be a shit disturber and Pyro was determined not to let him disturb any shit. On Friday, they met with their Spy again, welcoming him into their base.

Spy could barely wait until they got to Pyro’s room before going to them, playfully kissing their mask and laughing as he climbed them—they’d discovered that Pyro could hold him easily. Spy liked that, had always preferred partners who were physically stronger—not that they were difficult to find, at his size—and could lift him. 

Pyro scooped Spy up and spun him once before depositing him on the bed and removing their respirator. They took a slow breath, relaxing more now that it was just them and Spy. "You were a pain today," they laughed. Spy had been almost impossible to pin down and he'd killed them far more than they'd killed him. 

“Good. I strive to be,” Spy teased.

"Good." Pyro grinned, kissing him. They hung up their mask, crawling onto the bed next to Spy to snuggle up to him.

“Much better,” Spy sighed, rearranging both of them to his liking. “How was your week—besides the handsome devil who trounced you?”

"RED Spy was poking his nose into our relationship." Pyro grimaced, then snorted with laughter. "He said you were ‘using me.’"

Spy’s expression immediately soured, and he pressed his face against Pyro’s shoulder to hide it. “Did he now?” he said at last. 

"Oh, come on, it's funny!" Pyro grinned. "You're using me to what, get burn scars? I mean, he's an ass, and I don't really like him, but it's still funny."

“He spoke to me as well.”

"Oh? What'd he say?"

“He... Never mind, it’s not important.” Spy shook his head, smiling wryly. “He _really_ said I was using you?”

"Is it _really_ not important?" Pyro countered, kissing Spy's shoulder. "And yes. He's not very smart."

Spy snorted. “Not very... _wise_ , anyway.” He kissed Pyro’s shoulder. “He was trying to manipulate me as well, the little shit. It didn’t work. Though...I am a little concerned about his attention directed at us.”

"Yeah, it would be better if he weren't focused on us. Isn't his ultimate-fantasy partner enough to keep him busy?" Pyro sighed.

“One would think so.” Spy smiled a slow, wicked smile. “Perhaps...well, I know you consider yourself a fairly honest, open person, but perhaps, given the circumstances, you would consider stooping to a little meddling of your own?”

They gave that familiar head tilt, the one they used with the mask on as well, the one that indicated they were lost. "What kind of meddling?"

“Well... If your Spy _truly_ wants this sort of relationship with your Engineer, it means that he’s relinquishing a certain amount of...control to Engineer. And I think Engineer might be interested enough in what his pet is doing to rein him in, especially as he’s tried to involve _you_.” He rather liked the thought of his counterpart being brought to heel by the man he’d chosen as his master. 

"I don't really think it's underhanded to tell Engineer what his Spy has been up to." Pyro shrugged. "It's just being honest. What did he do to try and manipulate you?"

Spy sighed. He didn’t want to cause trouble between Pyro and one of their teammates, but he also didn’t want to lie to Pyro. And, honestly, he could use someone to talk to, to confirm it was only that the other Spy had rattled him. That he wasn’t _right_. Though, of course, Pyro was biased. 

“He implied that I didn’t deserve my position,” he finally settled on. 

"I think I _will_ have to talk to Dell about him. He's being a pain." Pyro nudged Spy over onto his back and laid their head down on his flat tummy. They wanted to ask their Spy his name, but they were also worried that would be overstepping some boundary. They hadn't tried to give Spy their name either, maybe they should try that first?

“Mmm, yes, you’re right, that’s more than enough about him.” Spy reached down to pet their short, bristly hair. “I know you’re more than capable of taking care of him.” 

"If all else fails I can just pick him up and throw him in the garbage," Pyro laughed, turning to kiss a sliver of Spy's uncovered skin beside an opening in his mask. 

“I mean, _personally_ that would be the first fucking option, but...” Spy sighed dramatically. “Your Engineer _does_ seem fond of him, and you’re fond of your Engineer.” He sighed again. “I don’t want to move, but I’m also wearing far too much.”

"True." Pyro also heaved a sigh. "I guess I'll just let Engineer know if he keeps being a pain. And throw him in the garbage if it keeps up after that." Pyro began to undo Spy's buttons, baring more skin as they went. "We can at least open your shirt."

“Yes, we can,” Spy murmured, voice breathy, spreading his shoulders to offer more of himself to Pyro. 

They grinned, opening his jacket and shirt, rucking up his undershirt and kissing over his ribs and tummy. "You wear too much. And that's coming from _me_."

“I wear just enough,” Spy protested playfully, already squirming from Pyro’s attention. “It’s only ‘too much’ in this one specific circumstance, and unfortunately you’re the only one affected by it.”

"Is that unfortunate?" Pyro teased. "Do you want to affect other people with your needless layers of clothing?"

“Needless layers of clothing yourself! Maybe I do,” Spy teased back, “but then I imagine what you’d do to me if I did and just...” He shuddered dramatically. “I can’t even imagine. Maybe you’d best give me a hint. A little taste. Just so I fully understand the...consequences?”

Pyro grinned, nipping instead of kissing now, pinching Spy mercilessly. “You’re right,” they purred, “I don’t want to share you.” They dragged him across the bed, stripping him as they went, his clothes tossed carelessly on the floor. “I’m not going to share you with anyone.” They sank their teeth into his shoulder, leaving a dark hickey and some deep imprints from their teeth. They held Spy down easily, biting and kissing at his sensitive skin.

“Somehow, I think I’m alright with that!” Spy gasped, his whole body responding to Pyro’s hands and mouth. He’d never found jealousy—or, more accurately in this case, possessiveness—an attractive quality in a partner, but now Pyro’s words sent a thrill down his spine. He knew it was at least partially because it was possessiveness he’d agreed to—and, he suspected, if he asked Pyro to be only with him as well, they would agree and uphold their promise. 

He loved how much of their strength and ferocity followed them from the battlefield, giving him a delicious touch of real fear from time to time. He knew they would go as far as they wanted and he’d be nearly helpless to stop them. Rather than terrifying him, the way it would have most of his life—perhaps the way it still _should_ , rationally—it only made him want them more. He wanted to take everything they could give. 

Once he’d stopped moaning from the latest bite, he reached up to touch Pyro’s wonderfully open face. He had to try a few times—his hand didn’t seem to be quite where he felt it ought to be, and his eyes weren’t being much help. “I want to take everything you can give. And give you all I can.” He said it in French first, both because he considered it the language of his heart and because he didn’t want to misspeak something this important. He was already mentally translating in case Pyro didn’t understand or needed clarification. “ _Tu comprende?”_ He alternated between using the more intimate _tu_ and formal _vous_ —Pyro definitely had the power in their relationship, and Spy was happy to acknowledge that, but he was also closer to them than almost anyone he’d ever met. If he didn’t say _tu_ to Pyro, there was no one. 

Pyro nodded. They didn't speak French as well as they used to, but they still understood it well enough to follow Spy's confession. Spy seemed to be offering up his heart and Pyro was oh-so-happy to accept it. They had a tight, warm feeling in their chest, but for now they pushed past it. They could be romantic when both them and Spy were feeling a little less... urgent. 

Pyro reached over the side of the bed and pulled out their strap-on. They tightened the straps around their hips and gave Spy a little grin. They rolled him, pushed him face first into the bed and pressed the toy up against his thigh. They held him down with one hand over his head, pressing the side of his face into the mattress. Grabbing a condom, they slipped it on and immediately pressed the tip of the dildo up against Spy's opening, letting it run back and forth over the sensitive skin there.

“Yessss,” Spy hissed, eagerly lifting his ass once he realized what Pyro was up to, offering himself up to them. With anyone else he might have been disappointed or even hurt to receive only a nod in response to such an intimate moment, but Pyro’s face was so wonderfully expressive; he’d seen everything he needed there. “Please, _mon feu_ , please, take me, I’m yours!” he begged, trying to line them up so Pyro would enter him rather than teasing.

They grabbed him by the hips, lubed their toy quickly and guided the head of the dildo into him, taking their time letting it press deeper. Spy trembled under them and they hesitated, giving him a little more time to adjust. It didn't take long for him to rock his ass back against their hips eagerly, and soon enough the toy was buried in Spy, Pyro's hips pressed flush to his ass. Spy was making such sweet, desperate noises, Pyro didn't want to stop. They dug in their fingernails against his hip, their other hand still on the side of Spy's head, pinning him down ruthlessly. They rolled their hips, striking up a rhythm that worked well with Spy's eager thrusts back into them. "You _are_ mine," Pyro agreed, bending over Spy to kiss his back.

Spy could only moan in response, unable to form words in any language he knew. He pressed his head up against Pyro’s hand, feeling and revelling in how easily they kept him in place. Pyro fucked him better than anyone ever had—perhaps because they were mostly concentrating on his pleasure and delaying their own. “Yes! Yes, yours!” he agreed in a rush when he finally caught his breath. “Fuck, Pyro, so good, so good,” he crooned, arching beneath them as they mercilessly slid across his prostate again. 

Pyro focused entirely on which motions got the best whines and cries out of Spy and repeated them. They held him down easily, letting the toy roll over his prostate again and again. They grabbed one of his arms and twisted it up behind his back, digging their fingernails in over a burn scar they had left the week before. 

Spy screamed his pleasure, just on the edge of too much stimulation, blind and speechless with pleasure. Pyro grabbing his arm forced his head down even harder on the mattress. Between the combined pain of having his arm twisted and Pyro gouging a sensitive scar, and the thorough attention they were applying to his ass, it wasn’t long before his cock was throbbing, but he couldn’t reach it easily in this position, never mind stroke it for any length of time. He let out a desperate, high-pitched, pleading whine, trying to look up the length of his back at Pyro. 

Pyro gave a little grin, pleased by the noises they were getting out of Spy. His pleading expression as he looked up at them was particularly nice. "I love having you like this," they admitted. They stroked a rough hand over Spy's round ass, possessively. Bringing Spy to the point where he couldn't even manage words was always a heady experience. They knew what he wanted even without him forcing out a few words, and after another minute of attention, they reached around his hip to stroke his cock.

“Love...being like this,” Spy managed to gasp. Pyro’s hand closed around his cock and he came within moments with a hoarse cry, his whole body shaking and jerking through his lengthy climax. 

Pyro felt Spy bend and shudder through his orgasm, giving him a little more room to move until he was done. They waited until he'd collapsed to the bed, gasping, before releasing his cock and easing the strap-on out of him. They pushed him flat to the bed, rolling him over, and bent to trail kisses up his side and over his chest. "I'm glad you love being like this with me," they murmured, wrapping themself around Spy affectionately, still poking him with the strap-on. "You're mine."

“Mmmm,” Spy agreed lazily, cuddling as close to Pyro as he could. “I am. All yours. What can I do for you?”

"You can catch your breath first." They grinned, wrapping him up in their arms. "'Cause you're gonna need it." They pulled off the strap-on and put it aside.

“Oh, is that how it is?” Spy purred. “What do you have in mind for me?”

"You ready to find out?" they asked, sliding a hand between their thighs, teasing themself. 

“I am.”

They got up on their knees, one thigh on either side of Spy's head. Spy had certainly sucked them before, but they had never tried this position. Pyro was fairly sure that Spy would enjoy it, since it allowed them to have most of the power and Spy was just along for the ride. They wanted to push Spy's limits, make him fight them a little for air. They would get off him in a second if they thought he really wanted them to, but mostly when Spy struggled he seemed to relish it.

Spy stroked a hand up each of Pyro’s thighs, smiling up at them wickedly. 

Pyro settled themself above Spy, letting him get comfortable beneath them before rolling their hips, fucking his face slowly. They gave a low moan as he sucked at their clit with an obscene sound. "Ohhh," they groaned, twining their fingers through his hair. 

Spy hummed his agreement—not that he could do much more than that. He began gently, licking them thoroughly, teasing both of them before latching onto their clit and sucking it voraciously. 

Pyro trembled on and around Spy, their fingernails digging into his scalp. They couldn't help grinding against his mouth. 

Spy caught quick gasps of air whenever they shifted far enough back, but mostly he just held his breath. There was something about his air being restricted because he wanted to please them that was incredibly sexy. 

Spy wished he was younger, if only so he could get hard again. He certainly would be if he could; he’d always enjoyed giving oral. 

He moved as much as Pyro’s constrictive weight allowed, licking, sucking, and nibbling up and down Pyro’s bits, as they referred to them. He gulped as much air as he could, as quickly as possible, when Pyro gave him a chance to breathe, before returning to his task with gusto. 

Spy brought Pyro to orgasm nearly a dozen times before they finally pulled away, too sensitive for any more attention. They flopped over on the bed next to Spy, breathing hard, grinning, one arm wrapped around Spy's chest. "You're so good to me," they panted.

Breathing hard, Spy wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He cuddled against Pyro eagerly, grinning. “And you to me, I assure you!”

"Mmm," they sighed, happy to just lie there with Spy. "I'm so glad we started this."

“Ohhhh _mon dieu_ , as am I,” Spy sighed. He groped around for his cigarette case but couldn’t find his coat. He sighed again, pitifully. “I want a cigarette, but I also don’t want to move. I don’t want you to move either,” he clarified. 

Pyro dug a pack of cigarettes out of their bedside table. "Will these do?" They grabbed the nearest lighter and lit one for themself, not sure if Spy would turn up his nose at their brand of cigarettes.

Spy groaned appreciatively. “ _Certainment._ ” He laughed. “I’m not the RED Spy, _mon feu_. You don’t have to worry about impressing me. I’ll smoke any cigarette you give me.”

"Oh good." They grinned, lighting another cigarette and giving this one to Spy. Most of the spies they'd known were more like the RED Spy. They tended to like things a certain way and wouldn't tolerate things changing on them without a great deal of complaining. For a while they both smoked in silence. Pyro could still feel their heart racing. "Spy?" they started, after a very long pause. 

 “ _Oui?”_ Spy answered, hoping he didn’t sound as worried as he felt. He didn’t like the way Pyro had said his—well, his _class_ name. He wished he could see their face from this angle and get a better idea of what they were thinking. A _precise_ idea, really. 

They'd started saying it aloud without a plan as to what they really wanted to say so that they couldn't back out, but now they felt tongue tied. They wanted to ask Spy's name, but maybe it was better to give him their name first. "You don't have to um," they sighed, "reciprocate," they finally decided on, "but my name's Emery."

Spy felt his body go almost limp with relief. Whatever he’d been expecting...this wasn’t it. “Emery.” He rolled the name around in his mouth, the way he had their clit a minute ago. “I like it. It suits you.” He didn’t want to hesitate long, worried Pyro would think he was answering reluctantly or lying. “I always want to reciprocate with you,” he said. “Thierry,” he added, softly. 

"Thierry," they repeated, with a smile. "Maybe it's silly, when I've got a class name for you, but I want to call you something other than ‘Spy.’" They'd gotten very used to calling people ‘Spy,’ and to never learning the names of certain teammates, but it was different between them. They were more than just foes, more than friends too. It was complicated enough that Pyro wanted to have a name to call their Spy. And now they had one. They took Spy's name at face value. If it was a lie, it was still a name Spy had chosen for himself and they would respect that.

“Not silly at all.” Thierry snorted. “Now that you’ve taken the impetus...I want that, too. I prefer being associated with my colleague as little as possible. I...” He switched to French. “I would like my name on your tongue when you speak of me, rather than something I share with him.”

Emery nuzzled up in next to Thierry, kissing him again and again. "Good. That's what I want too. I have no problem with the other Pyro... but I'd rather you have my name." They took a few slow breaths through their cigarette. "Really, though, I've been called ‘Pyro’ more than I've been called ‘Emery,’" they laughed.

“I definitely do have a Pyro preference, I’m afraid to admit.” Thierry grinned.“I’m sure that’s true. I think that makes me like it even more,” he admitted. 

"Good." They smiled, stroking their fingers over his skin. They were so happy with how that had gone. It had been much more awkward in their head. But Thierry wanted to know them, and he wanted them to know him. It gave them a little thrill.

“I do have a question for you,” Spy laughed. “Why do you use a condom?”

“They’re clean and lubricated.” They shrugged. “If there’s anything on the strap-on, like dust or hair, we don’t have to worry about it bothering you.”

Spy nodded. That made sense. “Yes, my delicate Spy-flesh,” he teased. 

“Mhm!” they agreed with a smirk.

Even though it hadn’t bothered him at the time, the other Spy’s words came back to him. He hadn’t wanted to tell Pyro, but now it felt like a weight on his chest and he had no one else to tell. “He…he said that I would have been better off if someone had just shot me. That there was no use for a…a broken Spy.”

“Why would you be broken?” Pyro frowned. They were going to have to _shake_ the RED Spy. Possibly while he was on fire. 

Spy couldn’t help a soft smile. He could tell Pyro meant their words honestly. “Oh, _mon feu_ ,” he sighed. “Do you remember when I told you why I was hired—why I accepted this job?”

They nodded. They didn’t think of Spy as broken because of that. He still fought and did his job. He was still a great Spy. “That doesn’t make you broken,” they argued. 

“I’m glad you think so,” Spy said, warmly. “And I’m…well, I’m at least _beginning_ to think you’re right. Clearly,” he added, dryly, “he does not feel the same way. I don’t say this to pressure you to speak to your Engineer about his…pet. I didn’t want to tell you. But I think I _needed_ to.” He ground out his cigarette in an ashtray just before it started burning the filter. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for another?” he asked, voice high and bright. 

“Of course.” Pyro grabbed another cigarette for Spy. “I’ll talk to Dell. He’ll want to know, I think. And I mean, what his Spy says isn’t his responsibility, I know, but… He’ll want to know.”

Spy accepted the cigarette gratefully, smoking silently for a while. “There are those who would say that what his Spy says is very much his responsibility, given the roles they’ve chosen. We’ll see.”

“I’m not sure Dell’s quite… stepped into that role, yet. Last time I talked to him about it he was a little uncomfortable with the idea.” Pyro stroked their fingers through Spy’s hair gently. “I mean, that might have changed by now, but I’m not sure it has.”

“No, I think you’re right. Still, a man can dream, _n’est pas?”_ Spy’s smile was firmly genuine again as he cuddled against his lover and finished his cigarette. 

Pyro loved seeing that smile on Spy's face, it always made them smile too. They kissed their way along his jawline, their fingertips working into the tight muscles of his neck and shoulders. They had so much they wanted to tell Spy—Thierry— but they were worried about taking things too fast for him. Or too far in general. They wanted to tell him they loved him, that they loved his smile, that he wasn't broken, that he was so strong. But they didn't know how to say any of it yet, so they swallowed the thoughts down and kissed him instead.

  



	13. Sunday November 18th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the shortest chapter ever! and a day late too! sorry guys

**Sunday November 18th**

 

Saturday was spent much like Friday. They spent most of it naked in bed, and both Spy and Pyro had a few little burn scars to show from it. 

Sunday they both slept in. Pyro’s internal clock woke them at their usual time, but they simply rolled over in Spy’s arms and went back to sleep for a few more hours. 

Opening his eyes, Spy was pleased to see by the light from Pyro’s small window that it was later in the day than Pyro normally woke—which always woke him, too. He smiled at their sleeping face—he realized he’d never really seen them asleep before; he’d always fallen asleep first and woken second. He wanted to reach out and stroke their cheek and hair, but he also didn’t want to wake them. 

Not long after Spy stirred, Pyro blinked themself awake, then stifled a yawn. “Hey,” they murmured.

“Good morning.” Now that they were awake, Spy shifted forward to pepper Pyro’s face with silly little kisses. 

They closed their eyes, wrinkling their nose under the affectionate assault. Finally they giggled, kissing him back.

_ “Je t’aime.”  _ Spy’s eyes widened and he drew back a little. He hadn’t meant to say it—he  _ meant  _ it, but he hadn’t intended to say it out loud—and he was suddenly terrified that Pyro would react poorly and he’d have ruined the best thing in his life. 

Pyro flushed red. Spy looked mortified that he’d said it, but it sounded like he meant it. “I love you too.” They wound their arms tight around him, pressing their foreheads together. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to say it,” they admitted.

Spy exhaled, the air leaving his lungs so abruptly he felt faint.  _ “Grâce à dieu,”  _ he gasped, eyes closed with relief as he snuggled against Pyro again. He’d only needed to see their face while they returned his sentiment to know they meant it. He could hardly catch his breath, and he felt like the room was spinning. He felt drunk, sick, panicked, and overjoyed all at once. He didn’t dare move. His heart was racing, his core felt cold, and sound was echoing oddly, as though he was in mild shock.

Pyro stroked his hair gently. “You ok?” they asked, after giving him a minute just to breathe. 

He nodded, mouth pressed tightly closed. He focused on his breathing, on the feeling of Pyro’s warm, strong arms around him, then nodded again. “I am fine. Sorry about that.” He laughed, a little wildly. “I’m not sure what came over me. But…I meant what I said.  _ Je t’aime— _ I love you.”

“Love you too,” they said with a smile. “I’ve felt it for a while, I just wasn’t sure I should say it.”

Spy nodded again.  _ “Moi aussi.”  _ He grinned wryly. “I-I didn’t mean to, just now, but…I’m glad I did. And I’m  _ very  _ glad you feel the same!”

“Yeah, me too.” They drew him into a tender kiss. “My Thierry.”

“My Emery.” Spy kissed them back. He was glad that anxious, terrified feeling had passed so soon and so quickly. 


	14. Monday November 19th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Pyro and Dell

**Monday November 19th**

It wasn’t long after battle when Pyro sought out Engineer. They had run into RED Spy that morning and he had again made a few derisive comments about their Spy. They were hoping Engineer would put a stop to his behaviour.

“Hey, Dell,” they called from his doorway, knocking on the frame. “You have a minute?”

“Hey, Firebug!” Dell called back with obvious pleasure in his voice. He took off his welding mask and shut off his torch and tanks. “C’mon in.”

They came in, giving his arm a friendly squeeze. “I’m so glad you work here now.”

Engineer gently pulled them into a full hug, then pulled back with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I’m sweaty and covered in grease.” He wiped his forehead on his sleeve, leaving a black streak he wasn’t aware of. “I’m glad I work here too. With you and…” he blushed, “…for other reasons.” He pulled a rag out of his jeans pocket and used it to scrub the grease off his hands as best he could. “I-I’m sorry for how things happened. That we lost—that  _ I  _ didn’t keep in touch. Things got…complicated.” He grinned again, a little forced. “But I’m glad that we found each other again. I truly am. Sorry, got a little sidetracked there. Something you wanted to see me about?”

“I don’t mind,” they assured him, not minding getting a bit of grease on their clothes. “And I know things were complicated.” The Conagher family had always been complicated. “I’m just glad we get to try again.” They squeezed his hand. “I was actually hoping to talk to you about Spy. RED Spy.”

“Mmm. From your tone, I don’t think this is a talk about how good he is? In battle!” he quickly added. 

“Noooo,” they laughed. “He’s been kind of an asshole to me lately, honestly. I mean, he was a bit before too, but ever since I started seeing the other Spy it’s gotten worse.”

“Oh has he now.” Engineer’s voice turned cold—though his tone clearly wasn’t directed at Pyro. “What has he been sayin’?”

“Just that he’s been using me. Stuff like that. And he won’t use ‘they’ for me, he always just says ‘pyro’ instead.”

Engineer’s brow furrowed as he thought. After a few moments he nodded, slowly. “Shit, Firebug. I’m just sorry I didn’t notice that sooner, on my own.” He shook his head. “He’s been saying that your—that the BLU Spy is using you?”

Pyro nodded. “I know he’s just trying to stir things up so I’ve mostly been ignoring him.”

“I assume you’re bringing this to my attention due to the, ah, nature of our relationship? My relationship. With our—the RED Spy?” Engineer felt himself blush to the tips of his ears and wished he’d kept the mask on so he could flick it down to cover his face now. 

Pyro nodded again. “I mean, you’re not responsible for him, he’s an adult. But I know you two are uh… well, you’re in charge, right? So I thought you’d want to know.”

“Ah, yes. That’s about… Yes. I know it’s not my doing, but I am sorry he’s doing this.” A wicked grin spread across Engineer’s face. “I think I know just the way to handle this, though. And you let me know if he bothers you anymore. You or…well.” He shrugged one shoulder. 

“You don’t mind that I’m seeing the BLU Spy?” Pyro asked, tentatively.  They cared about Dell’s opinion, more than they did about most of their teammates’.

“Why would I?” Engineer asked, genuinely confused. “I mean, he’s a—well. He’s a  _ nuisance  _ in battle, but I reckon that’s what he’s being paid to do to us when he can, same as we’re being paid to do to him.”

Pyro smiled. “I’m glad. He is a nuisance, but he’s good at it,” they chuckled. 

Engineer snorted, his cheeks colouring again. “Well, I’m glad to hear he’s good at…it.” He started laughing and couldn’t stop for a solid minute. When he managed to pull himself together, he nodded seriously and added. “He makes you happy? He’s good to you?”

“Yeah,” they assured him. “He’s great. I’m glad we started seeing each other. He keeps me happy.” They had a soft expression on their face.

“Then it’s none of my damn business.” Engineer couldn’t help smiling at the expression on Pyro’s face. No doubt about it—his friend had it  _ bad.  _ “But if he hurts you—you come to me and I’ll sort him out.” He glanced sidelong at an oversized wrench hanging from a tool rack. “Or if there’s anything he won’t tell you.” He snorted again, then groaned. “Sorry. Conagher humour. Not…not appropriate.”

Pyro laughed. “He’s surprisingly forthcoming, for a Spy. I know much more about him than I do about RED Spy, and I’ve known RED Spy a lot longer.” They reached out and squeezed Dell’s hand. “You’re pretty fond of him, huh?”

Engineer squeezed their hand back. “I…am,” he agreed, a little tentatively. “Couldn’t always tell you  _ why,  _ especially with what you just told me, but…” He sighed, shoulders sinking before one briefly lifted in a shrug. “I think he could be good for me. Help me…” He gesticulated helplessly before finally settling on, “…bring a few different parts of myself together.”

“I’m glad. I think you might be good for him too,” they suggested.

“Not just because I’m about to whup his ass for being a shit to you?” Engineer grinned. 

“Not entirely.”

 


	15. Tuesday, November 20th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is the same as Idée Fixe, again.

**Tuesday, November 20** **th**

“Hey, Firebug.” Aware that Spy was watching him, Engineer approached Pyro after battle. 

“Hey, Dell.” Pyro waved, leaning their flamethrower against the ground so they didn’t have to take the full weight of it. “Good battle?”

Engineer grinned. “Not bad. Got that boyfriend of yours a few times.” He gently elbowed them in the side. He was glad they’d stayed short, like him. They’d hardly grown since they’d been teenagers. “You?”

“Yeah, I got him a few times too.” They sounded pleased with themself. No matter how close they got with their Spy, they were both still vicious with each other in battle. It was nice to know that wouldn’t change between them.

Engineer blushed a little, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. “Well. I don’t know if _boyfriend_ is the right word for what y’all…well…”

“Yeah, I’d say he’s my boyfriend,” Pyro laughed. 

“That’s good!” Engineer gave Pyro’s shoulder a little squeeze. For a moment, he considered asking Pyro if they thought Spy would consider _them_ his…Pyro-friend? Despite his own intimate relationship with one, he was still wary of spies’ motivations. At least he had the sense not to tell Pyro their Spy was using them. Unlike _some_ people, apparently.

“How about you and your Spy?”

He grinned again, draping an arm over their shoulder and pointedly walking them away from prying spies. “That’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about. I talked to him yesterday, about what you told me, and I think…I _think_ he’s gonna be a mite more respectful to you now—but you let me know if he ain’t! I’ll set him straight. I think I’ve got a better handle on him now. And on myself. I know it’s crazy—believe me, I know—but I really do think he’s good for me.” He smirked. “And me for him. You should see him after—well. He’s a completely different man, I swear. He gets all soft and gentle and pliant. I feel like everyone’s gonna start owing me drinks for keeping him in line!” he laughed. “Hopefully he’ll stay outta everyone’s business if he’s…well, _busy.”_ He was blushing again, but he forced himself to continue. He had to get better at being able to talk about these things, and Pyro was just the person to practice with. 

Pyro followed Engineer easily, putting their arm around him. “I am glad you’re keeping him occupied. Sniper helps sometimes, to keep Spy busy, but not as much as you seem to. He can be a pain,” they laughed. “I guess most spies can be.”

“Guess it’s their job,” Engineer agreed. “Look at the two of us!” He burst out laughing and couldn’t stop for a minute. “Fuck. If Radigan could see the two of us now…!” There were tears in his eyes and he was wheezing a little. “Dating spies, the pair of us!”

“He would have murdered us,” Pyro said, quite seriously. Radigan had terrified them as a child, and they were sure he did the same to Dell. 

Engineer’s face paled and he swallowed hard. “Yeah. Yeah, he would’ve.” Even now, years after the old bastard’s death, the hairs on Engineer’s forearms and the back of his neck prickled talking about his grandfather. 

“I’ve known a lot of spies, working here, and I gotta say, most of them were ok. They’re not like he told us they were, they’re just people.” Pyro shrugged. 

Engineer shot Pyro a strange look, then nodded slowly. “Yeah. I guess they are, at that.” He squeezed Pyro’s upper arm, more for his own comfort than theirs. He laughed, a little bitterly. “I thought I’d gotten rid of most of how he taught us the world works from my own way of thinking, but every time I do, something else comes up and bites me on the ass.”

“It’s funny how things can stick with you,” Pyro agreed. They knew they still shared lots of traits with many of the Classic team. They’d learned almost everything they knew from them. But they’d spent far less time with Paxton and Radigan Conagher than Dell had, and they’d never been indoctrinated into the ‘family business’ of torturing spies.

“You too, huh?” Engineer laughed, the sound falling a little flat.

Pyro wrapped their arm around Engineer, tightly. “Sounds like it might be bothering you?”

“What? No, no, nothing like that,” Engineer assured them, not very convincingly. 

“It’s alright, if it is. I know it was a lot of pressure, from your family.” 

Engineer shrugged one shoulder. “I’m just… I think it’s a good thing I’m here, and not on the ranch anymore. Alone.”

Pyro nodded. They had never lived alone, but they imagined it would be very difficult.

“Anyway,” Engineer said, a little shakily, “I just, uh, wanted to tell you that Spy—our—the _RED_ Spy shouldn’t be bothering you anymore. And that I think I’ve unlocked him, at least a little. Hopefully it’ll make everyone’s lives a little easier. I really do wish you could see him like that sometime!” he laughed. “But I don’t think he’d forgive me. Not that I can blame him, either. It’s a pretty…vulnerable state, ain’t it?”

“It is,” they agreed. They saw their own Spy like that after they burned him, when he was all soft and defenseless. RED Spy would hate being like that. It was a trait he despised in others, surely he’d hate it in himself too.

“I guess I didn’t really have much to say, sorry to keep you.”

Pyro squeezed his hand. “Don’t be sorry. I know you’re still figuring things out, with your Spy. You can tell me anything you need to.”

“Thanks.” Engineer squeezed back, smiling very shyly. “Maybe I just…like talking to you,” he admitted softly.

“I like talking to you too.” They grinned. “We can always spend time together after battle. Though it might make your Spy jealous,” they teased.

Engineer snorted. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind that. I—I’d like that. Spending time with you, that is, not making Spy jealous. I don’t think there’s much of a masochist in me. Right now, though, I think I’ve gotta shower!” he laughed.

“Why don’t we watch a movie together later?” they suggested. 

“Hey! I’d like that.” Engineer hadn’t seen a lot of movies, especially recent ones. “You have any suggestions?” 

Pyro had always loved cartoons; they remembered watching them with the Classic Heavy and the Classic Scout growing up. “Sniper and I have been meaning to watch _The Jungle Book_ ,” they suggested. 

Engineer raised an eyebrow. “I’m happy to have Sniper there, too, but I feel like I have to ask—who all were you planning on joining us?”

“You are ok having Sniper there? You two are sharing Spy, right?” Pyro shrugged. 

“Of course. I like him.” Fuck. Somehow it hadn’t properly occurred to him that they _were sharing Spy._ He knew it, of course, but it hadn’t…clicked. “You’re right, it’s probably good to spend more time together.

“I thought it would be us two, the two Spies, and Sniper.”

Engineer coughed into his hand to hide a grin—or maybe a grimace. That sounded like a recipe for disaster, but Pyro knew everyone involved better than he did. He had to trust them. He nodded. “Do you want to let everyone know, or do you want me to tell…the RED Spy?”

“You tell your Spy, I’ll tell everyone else,” they offered.

“Alright. When were you thinking? Friday?” Engineer didn’t know if it was going to be hilarious or an utter catastrophe. He also wasn’t sure how to feel about Sniper being in the room with him and Spy. He didn’t mind that they were still…together. Honestly, it was nice to have Spy out of his hair some nights. But what if he wanted to snuggle Spy and Sniper did too? Sniper didn’t strike him as a jealous man—and he wasn’t either, at least he didn’t _think_ he was, but he wasn’t too experienced with his kind of thing—but neither of them were especially good at managing social situations. He also worried about the two Spies being at each other’s throats. Well, mostly _his_ Spy. Fuck. What was he going to tell Spy? Could he train Spy to be on a collar and leash in a week?

Pyro nodded. That would give them a chance to rent the movie in town and get everything set up. Plus, it would ensure they had time to tell their Spy about it.


	16. Wednesday November 21st

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy needs some comfort

**Wednesday November 21** **st**

 

Pulse racing. Breathing too fast—going to hyperventilate. Skin cold and clammy. 

Spy felt these things as though they were outside of himself, happening to someone else. He observed them, but couldn’t do anything to change them. _Helpless_. 

Fuck. No. He wouldn’t be helpless—he _wasn’t_ helpless. Not anymore. He was free, he was safe.

No, logic and reason had no effect on this fear, couldn’t touch it. This was pure emotion, overriding all rational impulses. Fuck. His dream had been so real, he could almost smell the—

He shook his head, violently. Fine. If his senses were going to overwhelm him, he could fight back. He closed his eyes—a mistake, reminding him of the darkness of—and imagined Pyro’s arms around him, holding him close to their chest. Warm, and safe, and solid.

It helped. His breathing slowed, he couldn’t feel his heart beating in his chest anymore, but it _still_ wasn’t enough. He needed… He swallowed hard. 

He needed the real thing. 

He could not have it, not yet, not for two more days. 

His body wasn’t convinced, _couldn’t_ be convinced. 

Sighing and cursing himself, he rolled out of bed and quickly dressed in a simple shirt and slacks. Cloaking, he made his way to his private garage and drove to the RED base. Recloaking after getting out of the car, he silently traced the now-familiar path through the buildings to Pyro’s room. He actually had his hand raised to knock when he realized how absurd that was—if he knocked loudly enough for Pyro to hear him, their teammates could too, which would defeat the whole purpose of being stealthy. He tried the handle—the door was unlocked, which didn’t surprise him.

“Pyro. Are you awake?” he asked softly, hoping he wasn’t about to get a fire axe to the face. 

Pyro barely stirred, giving a low groan and rolling over. It wasn’t time to get up yet, and until six, they slept heavily.

Spy deliberated a moment, then stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed beside Pyro, huddling against their naked side. At worst, he’d go through respawn and end up back at his base and have to come and pick up his car at some point. At best… Maybe that terrible, consuming dread would be pushed back until morning. 

Pyro wrapped their arms around Spy in their sleep, drawing him in close. They pressed their face in against his neck. “Mm,” they murmured, stifling a yawn as they started to wake up. “Thierry?”

“Yes. I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t…” He shook his head, burying his face in Pyro’s chest. 

“Hey, I’ve got you.” Spy’s fear registered then and it woke them up a little more. They stroked their fingers through his hair. “You ok? Did something happen?”

“Nightmare,” he murmured. He felt so ashamed—crawling into bed with someone, like a small child afraid of the dark! Pathetic. The other Spy was _right_ about him. He couldn’t even manage this defanged place.

“It’s alright,” they assured him, kissing his forehead. “You’re safe here.” They wished they knew how to comfort him. He’d been through so much. They couldn’t even fathom what kind of nightmares kept their Spy up at night.

“I know,” Spy whispered. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes, and this time the darkness didn’t reverberate with his own remembered screams. Pyro was so warm and soft and comfortable— _comforting_. He hadn’t expected to get back to sleep that night, especially so soon, but he quickly drifted off. If he had more dreams, he didn’t remember them in the morning. 

Pyro stayed up for some time, just stroking Spy’s hair and watching him sleep. Finally they fell asleep just as dawn started to creep over the horizon. They woke again at their usual time, just after six. They weren’t sure what to do with Spy. They were tempted to get up and start their usual day, but they didn’t want to leave him here alone, in case he had another bad dream. 

They snuck out quietly, but instead of making breakfast as they usually did, they merely grabbed a few slices of lemon loaf that they’d made yesterday and brought it back to their bedroom to snack on while they watched Spy sleep.

Spy’s nostrils flared at the scent of lemons, and it wasn’t long before he blinked awake. He felt a brief jolt of panic when he realized the bed next to him was empty and he scrambled to sit up. He leaned back against the headboard when he saw Pyro nearby, hoping they couldn’t hear his sigh of relief. “Good morning,” he said, a little embarrassed. 

“Morning,” they replied, standing over him and kissing the top of his head. “Feeling better?” They weren’t sure they should ask, but they couldn’t resist. They wanted to know if he was alright.

He nodded, eyes downcast. “I am so sorry. This was… This was beyond fucking unprofessional of me, and I am sorry to have compromised your…” the word wasn’t coming to him in English, “ _intégrité." Oh fuck, it’s the same fucking word._ “Integrity.”

Pyro immediately wrapped him up in their arms. “I’m glad you came. I hope I helped, a little. I’d much rather you come to me than be hurt or scared alone.” 

“You don’t have to…” Spy shook his head.

“I don’t _have_ to,” Pyro agreed. “I want to.”

“If you’re sure, really sure…” Spy finally relaxed a fraction, allowing Pyro to support him and leaning into their arms a little.

“I am,” Pyro assured him. “I really wish I could spend the whole day with you, though.” It was only Wednesday, and they both had to go to battle, had to fight and kill each other. 

They offered him a slice of lemon loaf, sitting cross legged on the bed next to Spy, with him leaning against their chest. “Do you… want to talk about it?” They really weren’t sure what else to offer him. All they could do was listen, and hold him. 

Spy took the loaf and started eating, relieved to have a chance to gather his thoughts without needing to speak. He could just concentrate on the delicious, lemony treat and the warm sturdiness of Pyro at his back. The loaf was gone all too quickly. “Did you make this?” he asked. He was sure Pyro would see right through his words and immediately know what they were—stalling—but he didn’t much care at the moment. Unlike his counterpart, he was able to leave his ‘Spy’ persona on the battlefield. 

Pyro was willing to let him stall. Surely it hurt to talk about it. They nodded. “I made it yesterday after battle.” They loved lemon loaf, especially with glaze, and they were happy to share some of their baking with their Spy.

“It’s delicious.” Spy licked his fingers. “Thank you.” He sighed again. “It was just a nightmare,” he said after a pause and a dismissive shrug. Obviously Pyro knew, just from his presence, that it was more than a simple nightmare. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he also didn’t want Pyro to think he was just brushing them off or didn’t trust them. He wasn’t sure he was up for describing his dream—and part of him didn’t want to share his horrors with his relatively sheltered lover. Not because he thought they needed his protection or were in any way childlike, but he didn’t want to inflict that kind of harm on them, even second-hand. 

Pyro nodded. They knew Spy was downplaying the nightmare, the fear he felt, but they didn’t want to press him for it if it was just going to hurt him more. “I know… I know you’ve been through a lot. I’ve seen your scars, and…” They took a slow breath. “I know bad things have happened to you, and that I can’t fix it. I wish I could help more, but all I can do is be here.” Pyro leaned in and pressed their head against his shoulder. They had seen a lot of traumatized teammates over their years working for TFI. Many of the mercenaries had gone through torture or something similar before arriving here, where it was relatively safer. But even seeing that and hearing their stories, Pyro still had no idea how to help Spy and they felt useless. “But if you need anything, if I can do anything, I will. Just tell me.”

“Emery…” Spy said, very softly. He could feel tears filling his eyes, and he wrapped both arms around Pyro’s upper arm, pulling it close and burying his face in their sleeve. There was so much he wanted—maybe _needed—_ to say, to respond to, but he didn’t think he could summon the words right now, not even in French. 

“Love you,” Pyro murmured, stroking his dark hair. They were glad they had started saying that with Spy.

“I love you too!” The words came out in a rush. He wasn’t sure he’d ever meant anything this sincerely. 

They gave him a little smile. At least he seemed to be a little calmer now, even if he was crying. 

Spy gave a breathy, shaking laugh. “Even though you say you don’t mind my, ah, unexpected arrival—and I believe you!—I’ll…I’ll try not to do it again.” He gave their upper arm another big squeeze. “Thank you. This did help.” He laughed again, just as unsteadily. “I’ve tried so many things, but nothing seems to help when I’m… Nothing but you.”

They squeezed back, kissing his tear-streaked cheek. “I’m glad I can help. I always want to help.”

“Well!” This time Spy’s laugh was slightly more convincing. “Is it time for us to kill each other already, or do we still have a little more time together? Without killing each other,” he added. 

“A little time to kill?” Pyro grinned. “We’ve still got about an hour before battle. I don’t know how much time you want to get ready, but I definitely need a half hour to get into my suit. And that doesn’t include time to do anything else, just putting on the suit.”

“That was awful.” Spy grinned, shaking his head. “That’s not much time. I should head back, unfortunately.” He snorted. “I’ll see you in a few hours? But you won’t see me,” he promised.

“Until I do.” 

“You _do_ seem to have an uncanny knack for that.”

“Oh! I forgot to tell you, Dell and I wanted to have a movie night with you and his Spy. And our Sniper, RED Sniper. On Friday. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” they assured him. “But I think it’ll be either fun or terrible, or maybe both.”

Spy blinked. “You—both of us. Both Spies. In the same room. With you and Engineer?” He fought to keep his voice as calm and level as possible, without outright laughing in Pyro’s face. 

They grinned. “Yes. I think RED Spy will be well behaved with Engineer there. And Sniper’s really nice. But it has the potential to be…hilariously bad?”

“Yes, that’s about how I would describe what I’m imagining. Alright. If you think it won’t be a disaster, or that my presence won’t make it worse, I’ll come. I…I’d like to get to know the people who are important to you.”

They gave a soft smile. They were suddenly aware that Spy likely had lots of people who were important to him out in the real world. People that Pyro was unlikely to ever meet. And the only people who had ever been important to Pyro were mercenaries. They couldn’t even fathom the kind of life Spy had before coming here. It made them feel naïve. “I’d like it if you came, but you don’t have to stay if it’s too much.”

“I’ll give it a try, anyway,” Spy agreed. “Thank you for inviting me. But…you know you don’t have to, right? I don’t want to intrude on something that’s for your team—your friends.”

“Pff, if it was just for my friends, RED Spy wouldn’t be coming.” They grinned. Still, they did want Dell and Thierry to meet, and hopefully like each other. Those two were both important to them.

Spy snorted. “Well, it seemed indelicate to point it out, but since you’re the one to bring it up…  I’m glad to hear that.”

Pyro kissed Spy again. “We should get going.”

“Yes. Right.” Spy had never been tempted to try and skip a battle before, but now he wished he could just be indulgent and spend the day here with Pyro. However, he suspected that even if he could persuade himself to do so—a breach of contract—he would never be able to convince Pyro to join him. He kissed Pyro back, threw together a smile for them, and left. His car was where he’d left it, mercifully untouched. Well, except that someone had written BLOO on it in what appeared to be shaving cream. Easy enough to wipe off. 

He drove back to his own base, had a quick shower, and dressed in his uniform. He stared at himself in his full-length bathroom mirror. He _looked_ like a BLU Spy, ready for battle. He didn’t feel like one…but Pyro believed in him. He smiled at his reflection and headed out to join his team in the gate.

 


	17. Thursday November 22nd

**Thursday November 22nd**

Pyro approached Sniper when he was out at his fire pit, not far from his camper. They waited for him to wave them over before actually sitting down. They passed him a paper bag with some cookies in it, pulling off their mask and leaving it in their lap. 

“Hey, Spark!” Sniper called out, greedily pawing through the bag and cackling over his treasures. “Wanna beer?” he asked, muffled through a mouthful of cookie. Pyro always said no, but he always liked to offer anyway.

They shook their head, grinning as they watched him stuff a cookie into his mouth. “I have a weird question for you.”

“Alright…”

“So, first, some news.” They were barely containing their delight. “Um. The BLU Spy and I started seeing each other. Like more than a month ago now.”

“‘Seeing each other’?” Sniper repeated. He wanted to make absolutely sure he wasn’t reading too much—or too little—into their words. 

“He’s my boyfriend,” they confirmed.

“Your—wow. Wow!” Sniper shook his head, laughing. “Well, that’s…unexpected. How the fuck did that happen, eh? ...How did I not know about it?” he added, after a moment’s thought. “Making me feel like a pretty shoddy Sniper right now, to be honest. At least I’m not Spy! Spy does know, right? The other…  _ Our  _ Spy. As opposed to  _ your  _ Spy, apparently.”

“RED Spy knows,” they laughed. “Don’t worry about it, I think we’ve been pretty discreet. But who did you think has been driving me to my treatments?” It had been Sniper, before Spy had offered to. Sniper had been unable to drive them the day that Spy had found out about them.

“I—shit, I didn’t even think of that! Sorry, mate. I’m glad you, ah, found someone.” He elbowed them gently in the side. “I still think I need to know how the two of you…?”

“He couldn’t sleep, I think. We met when I was at my treatment. He heard our voices in the infirmary. He offered to drive me back. And then next month Medic sent me a message saying his Spy was going to pick me up and drive me there and back. I think I just charmed the pants off him.” Pyro grinned.

“Must’ve,” Sniper agreed, grinning back. “Well, congratulations? Thanks for telling me, anyway.”

“Back to my question,” Pyro said. “Dell and RED Spy, and me and my Spy, are going to watch a movie tomorrow. We wanted to know if you’d want to come? This could be an absolute disaster, but it should be fun.”

“I take it this was your idea?” Sniper asked, dryly. 

“Yes. Are you in? I think you’ll like my Spy when he isn’t stabbing you.”

Sniper snorted. “Yeah? Or when I’m not chopping him,” he pointed out. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

“Yep. We’ll watch it in Dell’s workshop. It’s  _ The Jungle Book _ ! I know you wanted to see that one.” Sniper and Pyro often watched movies together. Usually nature documentaries, or cartoons. Sniper always talked through the nature documentaries, telling stories and arguing when he thought the narrator’s interpretation of animal behaviour was wrong, but Pyro loved to listen to him.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Spark.” Sniper grinned again. “But I wouldn’t miss it, not for anything. Maybe I have been curious about what the BLU Spy is like off the battlefield. He makes you happy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” they agreed. “He’s sweet.” He was a lot more than that, but they weren’t sure they had the words for it.

“Then I can’t wait to meet him. You staying for a bit, or did you just come to tell me that?”

“I’ll stay, if you don’t have any plans.”

“Tch,” Sniper scoffed, “I never have plans.”

“How’re things going, now that Spy and Dell are together?” They were curious about that side of it. They knew Spy and Sniper had been together for some time now, but Spy was definitely obsessed with Dell. Hopefully it didn’t hurt Sniper’s feelings.

“Well, I certainly haven’t been seeing as much of him—not a complaint, just a fact. Been kinda nice, not having him moping around here all the time. But he still comes by to see me from time to time.” He smirked. “Far as I can tell, it’s going  _ real  _ well. Little bugger’s getting everything he wants, as usual. Things always seem to work out for him, don’t they?”

“Mostly. He struck out with me a little. Not that he was flirting with me!” they corrected. “Just, he was trying to break up me and the BLU Spy and being real dumb about it.”

“Really?” Sniper shook his head. “What was he doing, and how hard do I need to pummel him for it?” He snorted again. “Or is Engineer taking care of all that now?”

“I think Dell’s got that covered,” Pyro snickered. “Spy was just being…himself.”

“Mmm. He’s definitely that. It’s like when they say one kitten in the litter has the most ‘personality,’ it just means they’re trouble” he laughed, shaking his head. “No harm done, I hope? I can’t help but still feel partially responsible for him—though it’s nice  _ not  _ to be,” he admitted.

“No, in fact, I’m pretty sure he got more upset than I did.” Pyro took up a long stick and poked at the fire, rolling one of the small logs. “He hates not being able to manipulate people. And he definitely has the most  _ personality. _ ”

“Yeah, he does. And you’re not very manipulatable, even if you  _ act  _ like you would be.” He frowned. “He hasn’t been bothering your Spy, has he?”

“I hope not,” they sighed. “He’s been out of sorts, and I don’t really know what to do to help him.”

“Your Spy has?”

“Yeah. He actually snuck over here the other night because he had a nightmare.” They looked up at Sniper, reassuring themself that Sniper wasn’t the type of person to use that kind of information to hurt someone. 

“Shit. Must’ve been a hell of a nightmare. Did he…tell you what it was about, anything that might give you an idea of how to help?” Sniper smiled. “Besides being, well, yourself. I know you always cheer me up just by being around.”

They gave Sniper a little smile. “No, I don’t think he wants to share the details. I just wish I knew how to help. More.” Spy had seemed a little stronger when he left that morning, but still shaken.

“Not much you can do with Spies, in my experience. Either he’ll open up, or he won’t. Sorry, mate. Still…” He grinned. “I think it’s a pretty good sign that he went straight to you, don’t you? Unless…it didn’t bother you when he did that, did it?” Sniper had never had much trouble with clingy lovers—most of his liaisons tended to last only a night or two before naturally going their separate ways. 

“No, I’m glad he came to see me. I just feel kind of inadequate.”

Sniper shook his head. “You’re anything but inadequate. If you were inadequate, I don’t think he would’ve gone to you in the first place. He would’ve just…curled up in a corner somewhere.” He nodded, decisively. “It’s a good sign. He trusts you, and you help him.”

They reached over and squeezed Sniper’s hand. “Thanks.”

“’Course.” He squeezed their hand in return. 

 

*

  
  
Pyro threw an extra pillow on their bed and heaped it with blankets, reorganizing the plush toys that usually stayed on the bed with them. Tonight they needed the extra room for their Spy to sleep next to them and the toys were relegated to an overstuffed loveseat in the corner. Pyro felt like there was a lot more they could be doing to prepare to have Spy sleep over, but they weren’t sure what those things might be. 

Spy had been a little reluctant to accept Pyro’s offer of a ‘sleepover’—what they did on the weekend was unprofessional enough, but during the week... 

The thought of waking up alone after another of those nightmares decided him. Maybe, if he woke up in safe, loving arms often enough, he could banish them for good? He knew he was deluding himself.  _ Lying _ to himself, the worst kind of lie, but he didn’t change his mind. 

After battle he showered, changed, and made himself a sandwich before the rest of his team flooded in for dinner. He retreated to his room and sat on his bed, staring at the wall in silence. He glanced at his watch; not nearly as much time had passed as he’d guessed or wished, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He drove to the RED base, cloaked, made his way to Pyro’s room, and knocked. 

Pyro didn’t have to check to see who it was. It would be their Spy or it would be Dell. No one else bothered them in their space; even Sniper usually approached them on neutral ground. It was an empty hallway and they opened the door wide enough to let Spy slip in before closing it behind them. 

Spy uncloaked as soon as the door shut behind him, smiling happily at his lover—someone who, not even two hours before, he had tried his best to kill, just as they had done their best to kill him. 

As usual, he was reluctant to make the first move, preferring to wait for Pyro.

Pyro wrapped Spy up in their arms, pressing a kiss to his face.

“Hello,” Spy said almost shyly, bending to make kissing him easier. 

Pyro grabbed him bodily and pushed him down onto the bed, straddling his lap and wrapping their arms around his neck. They grinned at him.

Spy had never considered himself a passive lover—not that he thought of himself as passive in his relationship with Pyro, not exactly—but it was nice to relinquish control with them, to let them guide and shape what they did together. He grinned up at them in return, shifting his hips from side to side to gently grind his erection between their thighs. “Miss me?” he teased, the breathiness in his voice betraying his own eagerness. He loved being at their mercy, pinned down while they decided what to do with him. 

“I always do,” they murmured, pushing him flat to the bed. Their thighs straddled his hips and they ground down against him. They pulled out a fat box of matches, depositing it on the pillow next to them and starting to unbutton Spy’s shirt.

“Mmm…” Spy shivered, shifting his torso as much as possible to make Pyro’s task easier. “I’m not…? I mean, I’m sure you need time alone, too…”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you here,” they assured him, kissing the tip of his nose. “You’re not too tired from work?”

“For you? For this? Never.” Spy shook his head, relaxing again. He appreciated Pyro’s open, guileless face that always showed exactly what they were thinking. If they said something, he knew they meant it. He didn’t have to worry about hidden meanings or unintentional snubs. He’d spent so much of his time lying or around liars that it was a relief to simply be open and honest with someone, knowing they were open and honest with him in return. 

“Good.” They smiled, finishing unbuttoning his shirt and leaving it open around his torso. 

Glad he hadn’t bothered putting on an undershirt after his shower, Spy spread his arms, offering himself up to them.

They lit a match, letting the flame burn until it was long, before stubbing it out against Spy’s chest.

Spy cried out, fingers digging deep into Pyro’s sheets in his passion. His hips jerked futilely beneath their weight, and then he was still again except for his heaving chest. His eyes were wide and unfocused, but he nodded up at them—he wanted more.

They shuffled off him, pulling off their shirt and undoing their pants as they moved. They gave his pants a gentle tug, indicating that they wanted them off.

Spy nodded. It was a bit of a struggle to sit up, even more to get his fingers to respond properly and undo his trousers, but he eventually managed the task. The sight of them, naked in front of him with a box of matches close at hand, was a heady distraction. He shimmied his pants down, hastily and carelessly tossing them off the side of the bed. 

To his surprise, they pulled him on top of them, between their spread thighs. They looked up at him with a wicked grin, lighting the first match and stubbing it out against his chest. Bits of blackened match fell down onto them as they ground it out against his skin, burning at them.

Spy laughed throatily. “Perhaps my memory is faulty, but…I don’t remember most sleepovers going this way.” He set a hand on each of Pyro’s thighs and leaned back, offering up his chest for more. 

Pyro wrapped a leg around Spy, pulling his hips right up against theirs. They lit another match, pressing the fiery tip against Spy’s skin again. “They’re more fun now, I think.”

“Agreed,” Spy gasped. “Fuck, fuck, it feels so good, it shouldn’t…!”

They gave their own little gasp of pleasure as, again, bits of hot match rained down on their stomach. They felt his hard cock slide up against their clit and their entire body shuddered. 

“Ahhh…” Spy laughed, feeling Pyro shift and flex beneath him. “Is that what you want?” He rolled his hips again, trying to repeat the movement that had gotten such a delightful reaction from them. 

“Yes,” they whined, pulling him in tighter, grinding their hips up against his. 

“Can you burn me while I fuck you?” he challenged teasingly, taking himself in hand and lining up with their opening. 

They nodded, looking up at him with wide, eager eyes. They lit another match with shaky hands, letting the flame grow to lick at his chest, burning away a bit of his chest hair.

“So you can…” Sliding his tip in, Spy’s head fell back, exposing the long column of his neck, and he moaned. “Right now, I think you could make  _ anything _ feel good.”

Pyro whimpered, their own head falling back a bit. They let the burning match fall from their fingers down onto their tummy. They writhed under the heat and white-hot pain of it, which only made Spy’s first thrust feel better, their muscles tightening around him. “F-fuck!” they cried out.

“Oh, I intend to,” Spy purred. He rolled his hips forward, pressing deeper until he no longer had to hold himself in. With both hands free, he once again placed them on Pyro’s thighs, giving them a large flat surface to burn and mark. 

Pyro’s cries were rhythmical, in time with Spy’s thrusts. Each press deeper drew a gasping moan out of them. It was hard to focus enough—to keep their hands steady enough—to light more matches, but they managed. They lit another, and the flame had barely burst into being before they were grinding it out against Spy’s chest, right below his collarbone. Their thighs trembled around him. 

“Yes!” Spy cried, his careful rhythm breaking into a staccato burst of thrusts as the pain hit, flared, and faded.  _ “Tellement bon, tu te sens si bien!” _

They couldn’t manage to light any more matches after that, their hands clutching at Spy’s shoulders as he thrust deep into them. “Oh, oh, oh god!” 

“I’m—!” Spy choked out, his eyes wild and frantic with need, trying to hold himself back until he was sure Pyro had cum. 

Pyro’s cries grew louder as they came, their inner muscles tight around Spy’s cock, their back arched. “Yes!”

Spy’s hands flew to the burns on his chest as he came deep inside Pyro, rolling and pinching them between his fingers. His head snapped back again, eyelids fluttering rapidly. “Fuck, fuck, you feel so good, no one ever…!” he gasped. 

They nodded, understanding, cumming too hard to say a single word.

Spy thrust wildly, then finally stilled. He half-collapsed forward, bracing his hands on Pyro’s shoulders, head hanging down, chin almost resting on his heaving chest. 

Pyro arched up to kiss Spy’s forehead, panting. “Love you,” they murmured.

_ “Je t’aime aussi.” _ Spy’s long clever fingers continued to lightly stroke the fresh burns. He was satisfied, but this was a different sort of pleasure.

They practically purred, stroking his hair. “You always feel so good,” they praised.

“Ha!  _ Toi aussi,” _ Spy agreed, angling his head to guide Pyro’s hands to his favourite places to be petted. 

Pyro laughed, obligingly stroking him just where he guided them. He was so easy to be with, to lie next to and be in love with. They didn’t even have to be doing anything together, it was enough to just be together, quietly. 

  
  



	18. Friday November 23rd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> movie night!
> 
> though the movie scene itself is the same between here and Idée Fixe, they both have different endings and different beginnings, so it's worth reading them both

**Friday November 23rd**

  
At last it was Friday, when Spy could be with Pyro without any sense of professional shame.

Well. Without as _much_ , anyway. He still wasn’t sure this movie night was a good idea, but he was touched that Pyro wanted to include him in an activity that involved the other people they cared about. The only dark cloud on the horizon, spoiling his good mood a little, was the other Spy. He’d been especially bitchy today, and Spy didn’t think it boded well for his behaviour during the party. He was glad that he and Pyro had decided to get together a little before the others were supposed to come, so they could be alone for a while. 

Pyro could immediately tell that Spy was a little apprehensive about the movie night. “Is something wrong?” they probed, gently.

Spy laughed. “N-no, of course not. It’s just… Well, the fucking RED Spy was in a snit again today. I hope he’s gotten it out of his system before tonight. _Putain._ ”

“I think he’ll behave himself with Dell around, don’t you? And if not, we don’t have to stay. But I think between the four of us, he’ll at least try to act decent.” 

“I hope so.” 

They pressed their cheek to his shoulder. “What did he do today?”

Spy leaned his head down, gently squishing Pyro between his shoulder and head. “He…” He laughed, shaking his head. “He’s an idiot.”

“Yeah, he is,” they agreed, giggling a little as he squished them. Personally, they didn’t think the RED Spy was half as good as their BLU Spy, but they weren’t sure Thierry would agree with them. They didn’t want him to think they were biased, or that they pitied him or were lying. They knew he was strong, that he could survive so much, and still land on his feet afterwards. But they weren’t sure how to tell their Spy all that. So instead, they murmured, “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He kissed the top of Pyro’s head, then asked, “Do you think he’ll keep his mask on?”

“I’m not sure,” they admitted, closing their eyes with pleasure at the kiss. “Ready to go?”

“No,” Spy laughed, taking Pyro’s hand. “But I’ll go anyway.” He’d been hoping they’d say ‘yes’—he’d been looking forward to taking off his own mask, but somehow he didn’t feel comfortable being maskless if the other Spy still wore his. Or maybe he’d be the bold one and take it off anyway, and damn the paranoid fucker. He had nothing to hide. 

They gave him a smile, and hand in hand they walked the short distance to Engineer’s workshop. Dell had set up a movie screen against one of the walls and dragged a couch in with Sniper’s help. 

Sniper sat in the exact middle of the couch. He welcomed the BLU and Pyro in with a wave. They could hear popcorn popping.

At first Spy was confused by Sniper’s choice of position—he would’ve expected the normally reclusive Australian to sit at one end. He saw the way Sniper looked up when he came in and thought he might have some idea of why he’d chosen to sit there. It was an excellent idea, and he was glad he wasn’t the only one who was…concerned about how the evening might go, especially between him and the other Spy.

Speaking of the devil… He didn’t see the RED Spy yet, though it was of course possible he was skulking in a corner somewhere, cloaked. 

He nodded shyly at the Sniper and Engineer—of course his Pyro would be friends with his two greatest rivals in battle!—staying close to Pyro’s side but without touching them. 

Pyro sat between Spy and Sniper, allowing both of them a little room. They knew exactly how awkward Sniper could be with new people, and they knew their Spy was nervous about this whole night, so it made sense to them to set up this way. 

Dell came in with two bowls of popcorn, handing one to Pyro and the other to Sniper. He gave a smile and a nod to the BLU. “Glad I had Firebug by my nest today, you just kept showing up,” he laughed. 

Sniper snorted. “When he wasn’t on your ass, he was on mine.” 

Both of their tones were light, almost playful, and it was clear neither of them held a grudge over the Spy doing his job. Pyro grinned.

The BLU Spy let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It seemed that Pyro’s teammates, like Pyro themself, were able to separate their actions on and off the battlefield.   
“You gave as good as good as you got,” he assured them, managing a faint smile of his own in return. He ate a few mouthfuls of popcorn, relieved to have something to do—especially something that filled his mouth so he could choose when he didn’t want to talk. 

Engineer set up the movie while the other three munched on popcorn and chatted lightly. Sniper was a little reticent to talk at first, but Pyro engaged him on one of his favourite subjects—animals—and soon enough he was talking readily. He talked about the movie and all the different animals in it, and which he’d seen and what they were like. Pyro gave Spy a little wink.

Spy grinned back at Pyro. He was impressed by how skillfully they drew Sniper out, and that they took the effort to do so. He wished his heart was a tenth as good as theirs. 

Engineer shook his head with a little sigh as he got the movie started. “Well, looks like our other Spy’s gonna be late,” he remarked. “I ain’t waitin’ for him, he knew what time we were gonna start.” He rolled his eyes. Spy was always pushing things.

Sniper laughed. “Yeah, try getting him to be on time for anything.”

Engineer turned off the light so they could see the screen, sitting down next to Sniper, but leaving just enough room for a Spy to sneak in, if he came by.

The BLU Spy kept his distance from Pyro at first, pressing tight against the arm of the couch, but after Engineer turned out the lights and the movie started, he started slowly sliding their way. He grinned to himself when he realized they were advancing from the other side. Soon they had an arm wrapped around his waist.

“You started without me!” the RED Spy protested from the doorway. 

“You knew what time we were starting,” Engineer scolded him. “Not my fault you’re chronically late.” Luckily the movie’s beginning was slow, going through the credits first.

Sniper tried to stifle a laugh. He had to admit, it was refreshing to see someone put Spy in his place.

“Please. Everyone knows a party doesn’t start until at least fifteen minutes after the time stated on the invitation. Every civilized person.” He gave the BLU Spy a haughty look before settling between his two men. 

After securing the popcorn bowl for himself, he sprawled across them—head in Engineer’s lap, legs across Sniper’s. He pushed Pyro a little with his feet.

The BLU stiffened a little, hoping his counterpart wouldn’t notice. He was tempted to shift away from Pyro again—until he saw how comfortable the RED made himself. He was in a much more modest position, and anyway, his relationship with Pyro wasn’t something shameful and didn’t need to be hidden. The opposite, in fact—which was rather the point of the evening. So far he was enjoying the Sniper and Engineer’s company very much. He found himself wishing the other Spy hadn’t come at all. 

Pyro ignored the RED Spy’s attempts to poke at them, but Sniper noticed and grabbed the Spy’s feet, putting them squarely in his lap. He pinched him as a silent scolding. He was already into the movie, and Pyro could tell by his squirming that he was having trouble not talking about it. 

The RED Spy kicked a little, grumpy at this treatment, but Sniper held firm and he eventually relented. 

Engineer got his fingers under the edge of Spy’s mask, tilting his head as he looked down at him, a wordless question. 

He turned his attention to Engineer, but that wasn’t much better. He frowned up at his lover, shooting a pointed glance at the other Spy—not to mention Pyro! Just because s—they—took off their mask in front of their teammates didn’t obligate him to do the same!

The BLU Spy couldn’t help smirking. He’d been thinking about pinching a pressure point on his counterpart’s ankle if he kept his feet there much longer—not that Pyro needed him, or Sniper, to defend them. He imagined them taking their lighter to the bottom of his expensive Italian loafer and melting the rubber and couldn’t help another little smirk. Maybe a smiley face.

Engineer released RED Spy’s mask, shrugging. It was Spy’s choice. All he could do was ask. 

Pyro pressed a kiss to their Spy’s shoulder, but soon enough they were completely fascinated with the movie. Sniper too, seemed to be taken into the story, though every once in awhile he’d mutter or shake his head. 

BLU hadn’t thought he’d actually remember much of the movie, with so many distractions around. He’d thought he’d be most distracted by the other Spy, but oddly enough it was Sniper who kept grabbing his attention. He wondered what the Australian seemed to object to in the silly film. 

“This movie is very dull,” the RED Spy hissed to Engineer. “Why don’t we retire to your bedroom and do something more…interesting?”

Engineer tried to keep in a sigh, shaking his head. “Stop being a brat.”

Pyro snickered.

Spy fumed silently. If they’d been alone he would’ve protested being called such a thing, but he didn’t want to give his rival the satisfaction of hearing him complain. Brief thoughts of revenge against both Engineer and the Pyro flashed through his head, but he quickly reined himself in. Apparently he wasn’t even allowed to so much as chide Engineer’s friend anymore. 

BLU managed to turn a snort of helpless laughter into a rather painful cough. 

Pyro got control of their facial expression fairly quickly after laughing at the RED Spy’s misery. They were glad they’d suggested this, even if the Spy was being a brat, as Engineer called him. 

Thierry had watched a few cartoons with Pyro, but they were still a new genre for him. He had a feeling he’d be humming the songs to himself for the next few days. He was a little surprised by how much he was enjoying it, and how much of it he could follow. English movies with living people still sometimes gave him trouble, and cartoons were even more difficult. Maybe his English really was improving. 

Now that he’d gotten comfortable and felt welcomed, part of him wished they weren’t watching a movie, though, so he could talk to Pyro’s teammates and learn more about them. Perhaps they planned to stay after the film to chat a little? He hoped so, though he also suspected the Sniper was going to vanish as soon as the movie was over. He was honestly surprised the recluse had been out in the open around other people for so long! Or maybe Sniper wasn’t really like that off the battlefield. 

He snuck another glance at the Australian. No, he decided, that particular trait was genuine. 

Sniper caught Spy looking at him and, to his surprise, found he didn’t feel the way he expected he ought to feel with an enemy watching him. Though the BLU was vicious in the field, almost impossible to hear coming and as deadly as any Spy he’d ever fought, he found he liked his presence here. He seemed relaxed, and in some odd way, Sniper felt like he was almost fragile. He knew exactly how easy it was for this man to stab someone or slit their throat, but here he seemed nervous. Sniper could sympathize. He gave the BLU a wink and what he hoped looked like a normal smile. 

Displeased that no one was paying much attention to him but not wanting to make a scene in front of his rival—or, heaven forbid, get scolded again!—Spy waited for the damn movie to end so they could all get out of this ridiculous, uncomfortable situation. He considered leaving, but he knew he couldn’t do so without being noticed. Or saying he had to use the restroom, which he also refused to do in front of the other Spy. 

Glad his counterpart had stopped sulking—or, at least, was now sulking in silence—BLU happily snuggled against Pyro’s side. He felt…comfortable, or almost. Included in a way he didn’t usually experience. He had very few people he’d call friends—most were informants, suppliers. Useful people, not ones he socialized with beyond necessity. It was…nice. 

The movie ended and Pyro leaned over to kiss their BLU Spy before Engineer turned the light back on. 

Sniper snorted. “Personally, I woulda stayed in the jungle.”

This time, BLU couldn’t disguise his laughter. “Funny. I was wondering how accurate this documentary of your childhood was,” he teased. He immediately looked horrified, worried he’d overstepped his bounds and insulted one of his hosts. 

Sniper just laughed. “Nah, no tigers in Australia.”

Pyro shook their head, giggling. “And you were raised by dingoes, not wolves?”

“That’s right, spark,” Sniper rubbed a hand over Pyro’s bristly hair. They’d just recently shaved it shorter and now they felt a bit like a hedgehog. 

Engineer couldn’t help but smile, seeing them get along, though he had a feeling it wouldn’t last, with his Spy in the room. 

BLU closed his eyes for a moment and let out a soft sigh of relief. “Ah…what are ‘dingoes’?” he asked. 

Spy rolled his eyes and said something in French that sounded suspiciously like, “ _Doesn’t even know what a dingo is_.”

Engineer, who spoke fluent French, surreptitiously smacked the RED Spy across the back of the head.

Sniper smiled. “They’re wild dogs, they only live in Australia. My family kept a couple as working dogs.”

“Ow!” Spy frowned up at Engineer before retreating entirely to Sniper’s lap. This way he could punish Engineer and get closer to the centre of attention—who was, improbably, Sniper. 

Ignoring his counterpart—and, unfortunately, Engineer for the moment—BLU nodded slowly. “Do you have pictures?” he asked, a little shyly. 

Sniper was surprised to find Spy crawling into his lap, but merely pulled the man’s head to his chest and stroked his hair, hoping that a little attention would soothe his attitude. “Yeah, I do. Didn’t bring ’em, though. Maybe next time?” he suggested, just as shyly.

Pyro couldn’t have been happier to see their BLU getting along with their friends. Not only did he seem to be making an effort, but he also seemed genuinely interested in the two of them. 

If only the RED Spy hadn’t bothered to show up, it might have been an entirely different night. Maybe then BLU could have gotten to know Dell too, instead of having Dell constantly on the alert with the bratty RED Spy.

BLU nodded. “I’d like that.” He was relieved that Sniper had positioned the other Spy so he was facing Engineer rather than him and Pyro. 

Mollified, at least temporarily, Spy murmured happily and kissed a slow, lazy line across Sniper’s collarbone. He rolled his eyes again—what kind of Spy asked to see something, rather than simply finding it for himself without his target knowing? A useless one, that’s what! Still, no harm in listening to their conversation. Maybe, just maybe, he might pick up on something useful. 

Sniper flushed a little. Though he was pretty much shameless when it came to nudity, and often even sex, it was slightly uncomfortable having Spy kissing his neck while he was trying to talk to someone he didn’t know well. 

Engineer piped up, stroking a hand over Spy’s shoulder. “Why don’t we head to your room for the night?” He completely ignored Spy’s response, holding out a hand for the BLU. “It was good to meet you, I hope we can do it again sometime.” And hopefully the next time they’d get more of a chance to talk.

Spy felt the subtle shift in Sniper’s body and glanced up to confirm his suspicion. Though it hadn’t been his intention, he couldn’t help a smirk of satisfaction that he’d made Sniper blush. 

“Your room is closer,” he pointed out, taking Engineer’s hand. It was the first time he’d really spent with both Engineer and Sniper, and he was determined to do it more often. Alone. 

“You as well.” BLU ignored his counterpart as well, smiling at the Engineer. “I’d like that. Thank you for having me.”

Engineer gave in to his Spy’s request, letting him into the back room. He’d wanted to stay and talk longer with Pyro’s boyfriend, but it seemed better to get his Spy out of the way so that the other three could chat without any interruptions. 

Sniper stood, nodding for the other two to join him. 

BLU had been a little disappointed when the party began to break up—especially because he had no doubt Engineer and the other Spy were about to have sex, which he did _not_ want to hear—and he was relieved that Sniper seemed to be offering a change of venue. Pyro too was glad that Sniper still wanted to spend some time with them. 

Sniper led them outside, out near his camper. It was just slightly chilly now that the sun was starting to set and he lit a fire. There were a few beaten-up old lawn chairs around the fire, and he sat in one of them. “You don’t have to stay if it’s too cold,” he said, “but you’re welcome to.”

Spy shook his head, taking a seat and holding his hands over the fire. “No, this is nice. Thank you.”

Sniper went inside, calling out once he was just past the doorway. “D’you want a beer?” 

Beer wasn’t Spy’s favourite, but he wasn’t the other Spy, to be rude to his host. And sitting out here under the stars felt like a beer moment. “Yes, please!” he called back. 

Pyro reached out and snagged Spy’s hand, squeezing gently, smiling. They felt all warm and happy, just being able to spend the evening with their boyfriend and their friends. And even their friends’ annoying boyfriend.

Spy squeezed back with a matching smile. “What do you want to do tonight?” he whispered, hoping Sniper couldn’t hear them. He didn’t think so—he could hear the Australian humming one of the songs from the movie to himself over the clink of beer bottles.

“You,” they whispered back with a grin. 

Sniper came out with a little photo album and two beers, handing both album and a beer to Spy. As Spy began to look through it, Sniper turned to Pyro. “You’ve got your ECT tomorrow, don’t you? Do you need a lift, or do you have one?”

Pyro gave Spy a quick look, nervous of his reaction. 

Spy gave Pyro’s hand another squeeze and a brief, appreciative glance, though he hoped Sniper hadn’t noticed their interaction. He didn’t need more people knowing about his failure, even if he did genuinely like the Sniper and wanted to be friends with him. He focused on the photo album, first so he wouldn’t have to look at either of his companions, and then because it was one of the most bizarre and fascinating series of photographs he’d ever seen. 

As Spy perused, Pyro told Sniper that Spy would be heading back to his base anyway, so they might as well catch a ride. 

“Did you shoot this crocodile?” Spy asked, pointing at a picture of a grinning young man—clearly Sniper, from the lankiness to the awkward posture—standing beside…well, Spy wasn’t exactly sure how large a crocodile had to be to be considered a _giant_ , but it certainly looked large enough to him. 

Sniper leaned over to look at the pictures with Spy, laughing. “Nah, he’s alive. That’s Toothy. I found him as a little nipper and I set him up in a billabong close to our station so I could visit him but he couldn’t visit our sheep.”

“He’s alive?” Spy shot first Sniper and then Pyro incredulous glances. “And you’re just…just standing there? Never mind ‘visiting’ your sheep, what about eating _you_?” he laughed.

“He’d never eat me!” Sniper protested. “He’s my mate.”

Spy’s eyes widened. 

“He means the crocodile’s his friend,” Pyro laughed.

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“Oh! Oh, thank you,” Spy told Pyro. “That, ah…that is much less alarming than what I…” He couldn’t help laughing again. 

Sniper only shook his head. 

Spy continued flipping through the album; most of the pictures showed Sniper with various animals, at various ages, but none were as flashy and dramatic as the one with the crocodile. There were several more, including one where Sniper was lying on the beast’s back like a lounge chair. At least a crocodile probably couldn’t bite him there, Spy reasoned. 

He came across a picture of a strange-looking dog and held the album out for Sniper to see. “Is this one of those…” He couldn’t think of the word! “…Not-wolves?”

“Yeah, dingoes. They’re real smart. It’s not like having a dog. If they go hunting with you, it’s because they _want_ to. And if they want in the house they’ll just open the door.”

“Dingo.” Spy repeated the word to himself so he’d remember. “Forgive my ignorance—is it unusual for them to be able to open the door?” Dogs opened doors, didn’t they?

Sniper smiled at him sidelong. “You don’t know much about animals, do you, mate?”

Pyro shook their head, twining their fingers with Spy’s. It seemed like he’d missed out on a lot of things. Not that Pyro was one to talk, but at least on the Conagher Ranch there had been animals: dogs, cats, horses, pigs, chickens, and cows.

“No, not much,” Spy agreed, hoping neither of them could tell he was blushing a little. His family hadn’t had pets, and by the end of the war there had been very, very few animals left in Paris. He didn’t want to mention the cause of his ignorance, however. He suspected it would only make them uncomfortable, and he didn’t want that.

The three of them chatted until it got quite dark out, Sniper telling stories about animals he’d known, about The Jungle Book, all three talking about battle and the rest of their teams. 

Sniper could tell the two of them wanted a little time alone, it was obvious just by the way they held each other, so he gave a theatrical yawn and excused himself for the night, letting them go back to Pyro’s room.


	19. Saturday November 24th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyro's always happy to share

**Saturday November 24** **th**

The next day was ECT, and the two of them had to rise early to get there. Pyro was far more awake than Spy until they began to drive, when he finally started to wake up. 

“Thanks for driving me again.” Pyro liked to rest their hand on Spy’s leg as he drove. “You know Sniper would drive me, he’s an early riser.” They knew Spy liked to sleep in as late as possible.

“I’m in bed with you already, you’d wake me either way,” Spy pointed out. 

“True.” This was early even for them, and they just wanted to curl up in the passenger seat and nap, but they felt that would be unfair to Spy. “I wish this didn’t have to be monthly,” they sighed, “but at least it isn’t twice a week anymore. The IV bruises were way worse then.”

Spy winced, reaching over to stroke Pyro’s pale hand. “I can’t imagine having to do it that often! It’s…helping, then?” he asked cautiously, not sure how comfortable Pyro was with this subject—not sure how comfortable  _ he  _ was with the subject, honestly. 

The small bruise from the IV never seemed to fade from Pyro’s hand. They bruised easily enough already, without repeated IVs in the same place. “I think so, it’s keeping me pretty stable anyway,” they said, a little shyly. They were still unsure of how comfortable Spy was talking about not only ECT, but also their mental health. It wasn’t a subject they usually liked to bring up with the people they were seeing, but Spy was different. He knew a lot more about them than many of their past partners. “I’m surprised you didn’t know about it from my file, I’m sure it’s in there.”

Spy blinked. “Your file?”

“You haven’t read everyone’s files?”

He shook his head, face going a little red. “I…wasn’t given the en—your team’s files.”

Pyro looked over at him. “Do you want them?”

“Really? Even though I’m…?” Spy laughed softly. “Of course, I’m not going to say no to an offer like that.” He sighed. “It wasn’t just overlooked, was it? It was assumed that I’d…take them in some way?”

“Usually Spies steal them from the Medics,” Pyro agreed. “The Medics hate it. Miss P always sends me files for new teammates, and enemies too.” They were almost embarrassed to admit that they’d read their boyfriend’s file long before they’d actually met. “I can give them to you.”

“I thought about it,” Spy admitted. “It just seemed…” He laughed again. “…Rude? But if you’re offering, as I said, I won’t refuse. Information is information, especially about your Spy. You really wouldn’t mind me reading yours? I’m sure there’s some quite personal information in there.” He froze, hands tensing on the wheel. “You’ve read mine?”

“A lot was redacted.” They sounded apologetic. His name and much of his personal information had been simply black lines.

“Well, that’s…something. But I don’t want you to offer yours only because you’ve seen mine.” Spy didn’t think that was why they’d suggested it, but he wanted to be absolutely certain. 

“You should have them,” Pyro said. “If you’re coming back to my base with me after my treatment, I’ll give them to you. Your team’s too, if you want.” Surely he’d want to read his own file and learn what Pyro had read there.

“I don’t think your Spy would agree with you. I think he’d believe that, if I wasn’t capable of securing them for myself, I don’t deserve them.” He was beginning to think so himself. “I have my team’s files,” he assured them. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to read his own file yet, but now that he knew  _ Pyro  _ had read it, he decided it might be a good idea. 

Pyro could hear the upset in Spy’s voice and wished that they hadn’t brought this up. Spy got down on himself when it came to things like this, especially things that involved the RED Spy and his opinions on what made a good spy.

“We’re here.” Spy managed a soft smile as he stopped the car close to the infirmary. He followed Pyro inside, giving their hand another little squeeze. He didn’t think Medic would mind if he did more, but the thought made him a little uncomfortable. “Let me know when they’re done,” he told his teammate. “I’ll be in my room.” He was reluctant to let go of Pyro’s hand. 

Pyro gave him a last squeeze and a smile before letting go. They were glad he didn’t stay through the treatment—they weren’t entirely sure how it looked when they went through it, since they were always unconscious, but they thought it might be disturbing for him.

It always seemed to take forever to check through everything with Medic and get them set up properly. It was almost an hour before they were finally put under. 

They woke up about an hour later to the familiar squeeze of a blood pressure cuff and Medic’s face, but an unfamiliar pain in their lip.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Medic smiled down at the Pyro. They always looked so strangely vulnerable out of their suit, in his opinion. “I’m afraid we had a small accident. Entirely my fault. I apparently didn’t position your bite guard properly and…well, I think you bit straight through your lip. I can put some salve on it—you don’t need stitches, fortunately—but of course I can’t fully heal it without having to begin all over again. I’m very sorry.” He laughed, briefly chewing his  _ own _ lip. “I would offer you a sweet to make up for it, but I believe that would just hurt more.”

Pyro nodded, still a little groggy from the medications. They licked their lip carefully. It was badly swollen and it ached. They could feel where their teeth had gone through it. They were glad they didn’t need stitches at least, but they wished they could use the medigun to heal it. After ECT they couldn’t use a dispenser or a medigun for twenty-four hours.

“Again, I’m so sorry,” Medic said, sincerely. He was trying to think of other ways to apologize, but nothing came to mind. “Would you like me to go get Spy for you? Mouths heal very quickly, and I’m sure you’ll feel better after some sleep.” He licked his lip again, so without realizing it. Pyro’s lip was already starting to swell and redden. He looked away guiltily. 

“It’s ok,” they murmured. They brightened a little when they were reminded that Spy was waiting for them. “After I can get up and dressed, please.” 

Medic checked their vitals twice more before they were allowed to get up. As soon as they were dressed, Medic brought Spy in to see them. 

They smiled, but it hurt a little. 

Frowning at Medic, Spy rushed over to the cot Pyro was sitting on. “What happened, are you alright?”

Medic frowned back. “They’re fine. Just a minor injury—my fault, yes.” 

“’m fine, just bit my lip,” they told him. They could tell it was swollen just by feeling it, but if Spy could see it, it must be worse than they’d thought. “It’s alright, Medic, it’s not too bad, and it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

Medic nodded, giving Pyro a grateful smile. “You two will be kissing again in no time,” he assured them. 

Spy blushed beneath his mask, turning towards the door and hoping Pyro would follow quickly. 

Pyro laughed, also turning a bit pink. They followed Spy, leaning on him a little when they stumbled. “I guess the hand-holding gave us away,” they giggled.

“I think he already knew.” Spy ushered them back to his car and helped them into the passenger seat. They probably didn’t need—perhaps didn’t even  _ want _ —to be treated so daintily, but he couldn’t help it. They were so pale and their lip was almost twice its usual size. He’d have to talk to Medic later and find out what had gone wrong—and how to prevent it from happening in the future. 

“Yeah, he’s clever.” They were a little relieved to be helped, honestly; they were often pretty wobbly after their  _ normal _ treatment, never mind this unusual and unpleasant twist.  

“Would you like me to stay with you today?” A small part of Spy was tempted to get the files from them and then retreat to his own base to read them immediately. He supposed he could stay and read them with Pyro, but that seemed a little strange, even if they might be able to answer any questions he might have. 

Mostly, though, he wanted to go back to bed in Pyro’s arms.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” 

Pyro was a little dazed after their treatment, as per usual. They were quiet on the drive back, and happy to let Spy lead them to their bedroom. They went to their closet. There were a few boxes in there, all marked with dates. They grabbed the most recent one and set it down, pulling out a handful of files. Then they grabbed the earliest box to pull out their own file. They set them down on the bedside table, letting Spy choose whether or not to read them. They were all marked with class names as well as last names. Theirs was labelled ‘Pyro - Barnett.’

Spy fanned the folders out, deliberately touching each one before turning back to Pyro with a soft smile, eyes drifting pointedly to the bed. 

Pyro stripped naked before flopping over on the bed with a little sigh. “I don’t mind if you want to look through them with me, or by yourself. I want them back eventually though.”

“Of course.” Spy sat on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. “But I have the whole week to do that. Right now, however…”

“Mmm,” they purred, rolling closer to him.

Encouraged, Spy quickly and efficiently undressed before rejoining Pyro, slowly stroking their side. 

Their lip still hurt and they didn’t think kissing was going to be an option, but they were glad Spy wanted to hold them. It was nice to just touch Spy, to let him touch them. Their hands wandered up his flat tummy up to his chest, avoiding scars as they went. Most of them were electrical burn scars and they never wanted to bring up bad memories by accident.

“Would you like some, ah, attention? Or would you rather rest for a while?” Spy yawned, covering his mouth with an apologetic grin.

They looked apologetic too. “Sorry, I’m wiped. Later tonight?” they suggested. “Looks like you’re pretty tired too.” They smiled. It was only about 6 a.m. after all.

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping a little more,” Spy admitted with another yawn. 

They nodded, curling up with Spy and falling asleep almost immediately. Spy couldn’t sleep for some time and finally opened the first of the files.

 

*

 

It always took Spy a few nights to become accustomed to a new bed, but he’d spent enough with Pyro that he rarely woke disorientated anymore. They were still asleep—a rare treat—so he carefully rolled onto his side so he could watch them. 

It took them some time to wake up; they were always worn out after an ECT day. They gave a little groan when they felt their lip, putting a hand up to touch it. It was very swollen. Licking it, they looked up to see Spy already awake. “Hey,” they murmured.

Spy frowned with concern—Pyro’s lip had been red and swollen when they’d gone back to bed, but now it was so big it didn’t have any creases. “Does it hurt? Would you like some ice or something? I’m sorry it didn’t occur to me sooner.”

“Yeah, that might help.” 

Gently stroking Pyro’s jaw—on the uninjured side—Spy got up and quickly dressed. He still felt a little strange, prowling around the enemy base, especially without Pyro, but the RED team members he encountered only nodded at him in greeting or ignored him completely. He made his way to the mess hall and put a handful of ice cubes in a dish towel before returning to Pyro. “Here. Hopefully this will help a little. I’m guessing you can’t use respawn or a dispenser for a while after your treatment?”

“Not supposed to for twenty-four hours after. I guess it would undo what the treatment does.” Pyro took the ice with a little groan of relief. “Thanks.”

Spy bent to kiss Pyro’s forehead. “Of course. Let me know if there’s anything else I can get you.” Pyro’s explanation made sense—at least, as much sense as anything related to the medigun technology ever made—but it was unfortunate that they’d have to suffer during that time. 

“Would you like me to hold you a little longer, or do you want to get up?” He smiled softly. “Or would you prefer that I return to my own base?”

“I’m not gonna be much fun, but it’d be nice if you stayed.”

“Of course I’ll stay.”

 “…Did you have a chance to look at your file, or my teams’?” Pyro asked tentatively. 

Spy undressed again and slid into bed beside Pyro, thinking about his response before answering. “Briefly,” he admitted. “It was…enlightening.” He shook his head. “You must have already known a fair bit about me before we met. Including…to a certain extent, what brought me here,” he prompted softly. 

They glanced away briefly, then nodded. “I knew a little.” The file had mentioned him being a good target for TFI after a recent capture and reports of him having been tortured. “But I’d rather hear it from you, if you want to tell me things like that. And… I honestly didn’t remember a lot of it. There’s not much I can really learn about enemies through files. Fighting people isn’t influenced by what I learn.”

“I’m sure your Spy would disagree with you,” he laughed, rather humourlessly. 

“The way  _ I _ fight people,” Pyro amended, grinning and gently squeezing his hand. 

Spy’s expression turned even grimmer. “I’m glad…mmm...I’m glad that you pretended you were hearing it for the first time?” He would have felt so humiliated, telling Pyro something so private only to immediately find out they’d already known. It still stung, but he was even closer to Pyro now than he had been, which somehow softened the blow. 

“It was different, hearing it from you.” Still, Pyro was flushed. They felt a pit in their stomach. It felt wrong to have learned so much about Spy before knowing him, but they’d honestly forgotten about the file until earlier today. “I’m sorry.”

_ “C’est rien,”  _ Spy assured them. He couldn’t stand seeing that expression on their face and knowing he was the cause of it, so he managed a faint smile and cuddled even closer against them. “My failings are my own, not yours.”

“I wouldn’t call them that,” Pyro argued, softly, but they knew Spy didn’t agree with them. 

“Does it hurt to talk? Do you need more ice?” Not the subtlest way of changing the topic—or ending the conversation—but Spy felt too badly shaken to do better. 

“No, it’s alright,” they said, pressing the ice to their lip again with a little sigh. It did hurt to talk, but they didn’t want to waste their time with Spy in silence. “…love you.”

_ “Je t’aime aussi,”  _ Spy assured them fervently. 

Pyro nestled into Spy and they talked about unrelated things, quietly, for the rest of the morning. They fell asleep again not too much later.


	20. Wednesday, January 15th, 1969

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the spies continue their struggles

The month passed quickly. 

Christmas dictated that they had a day off, but because Miss Pauling was about, everyone stayed at their own bases. Pyro was sure she knew about all the illicit relationships between the RED and BLU teams, but it was best not to flaunt that kind of thing in front of the Administrator’s people. 

Pyro had already given Spy a scarf the weekend before—in purple, like they had said. In return, lacking a proper gift, Spy had shown them a photo album with pictures from childhood and his travels as a spy. They were delighted, and assured him they didn’t need anything more. 

They spent Christmas with Dell. It was nice to spend Christmas with family, and even with family’s annoying boyfriend. And Sniper, whom they liked much more. The team had meals together, of course, and many of them exchanged gifts, but most of their time was spent with those three. 

Christmas day was mid-week and the 26th they had battle again. 

The new year brought furlough, for the first two weeks of January. Pyro spent their furlough as they usually did when it came to Coldfront. They went to the RED Coldfront base early to warm the place up. They couldn’t help spending a lot of it wondering what Spy would be up to. It seemed lonelier than usual, being in the base all by themself. Normally they liked it, cooking and baking and painting and doing whatever they liked without battle or teammates. Everything was ready and warm by the time the team got there, and Pyro usually felt more comfortable having made the space their own first.

This time they felt time was going slowly and all they wanted was to be back with Spy.

**Wednesday, January 15th, 1969**

After battle, Spy was tucked in his bed beneath the covers, wearing every article of clothing he had, including the scarf Pyro had given him, and he was  _ still  _ shivering. Finally, he decided to get up and go for a walk—it couldn’t possibly be that much colder outside than in, and the barren landscape  _ was  _ beautiful in its own awful way. 

 

*

 

Though the 15th—their first day back—was a Wednesday and they therefore had work, Pyro and Scout still had plenty of energy afterwards. Pyro had stripped out of their suit to get into a proper coat and ski pants, plus mitts, hat, and scarf. They were nearly as covered as they would be in their fire-entry suit and chem mask, with only a strip around their eyes revealed. Coldfront was  _ cold _ .

Scout threw the first snowball, but Pyro was quick to take the offensive and soon enough the runner was thrown down into the snow and Pyro heaved a little hill of snow over him so only his legs were sticking out.

Hearing a nearby commotion, Spy cloaked and cautiously approached. Even though it was after hours, he didn’t think it was out of the question for a cross-faction scuffle to break out, especially when the bases were so cold, making tempers flare. His own team had been surly and cross since their arrival, and he imagined it was much the same for the REDs.

He was surprised when he crested a small hill and saw the RED Scout and another RED he assumed was Pyro, based on their build and height, having what appeared to be a very intense snowball fight. He watched for a while, then realized he was invisible and decloaked, waving to Pyro and hoping he wouldn’t get tangled in the battle. If a snowball touched him, he thought he would probably perish instantly from the cold. 

Pyro perked up immediately, leaving Scout to go to Spy, practically bouncing. They were tempted to jump into his arms, but they knew they’d knock him down. Instead they picked him up and spun around. “I missed you!” Their voice was almost as muffled as it was in the chem mask. 

Scout made a face under his scarf—Pyro-made, in the colours of his favourite baseball team—and yelled at Pyro, “Ew, what are you doing?! You’d better be dumping him in the snow!”

Spy couldn’t help grinning at Pyro’s obvious delight to see him, though he also couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable knowing Scout was watching. “Please don’t,” he said softly, “I think I would die.” Even beneath layers of clothes, Pyro still radiated heat as usual. Spy cuddled into their arms, shivering helplessly. 

Pyro wrapped him up in a tight hug. “I would never,” they assured him. They could feel him trembling. “You’re freezing, wanna go inside?”

“I’m not sure it will help.”

“Trust me, it will.”

Scout made a few grossed out noises before whining, “Pyro!” 

“Don’t be a jerk, we’re not in battle,” they scolded. Putting Spy down, they led him into their base, which was far warmer than the BLU base.

“It’s so warm in here!” Spy marvelled. Somehow, he started shivering  _ harder  _ now that he was out of the cold.

“Yeah, the heat’s been on longer here, I bet.” They unwrapped all their outdoor clothes as they went, then hung them all up in their room. “Want a hot chocolate?”

“Oh, yes please!” Taking off his own coat and shoes, Spy immediately burrowed beneath Pyro’s covers. Normally he would have waited for an invitation, or at least gone more slowly, but now he was so cold all he could think about was getting warm as quickly as possible. He felt like the chill had settled in his bones, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever truly be rid of it again. 

Their sheets were unicorn patterned. “I’m not sure why it would be; both teams arrived at the same time. There are fireplaces, but no wood… Thank you for bringing me inside.”

“Of course. And either firewood comes by train, or you have to go out to the forest and chop it.” Pyro said, bending to kiss Spy’s forehead. “I’ll be right back.” It was only a few minutes before they were back with hot chocolate. They brought a bag of marshmallows too, not sure if Spy would want them or not. They had a few in their own hot chocolate. They sat on the bed. “It’s warmer here because I warmed it up,” they clarified their earlier statement.

He snorted. “By setting it on fire?” he teased. Watching Pyro add marshmallows to their cocoa, Spy tentatively added a few to his own. The mug felt so good in his frigid hands, almost too hot, but he didn’t want to put it down either. “Thank you.” He sipped it carefully, worried it might burn his mouth, but it was, of course, the perfect temperature. “What did I do to deserve you, hmm?” He reached out to gently squeeze Pyro’s hand. 

They squeezed back, so happy to see Spy again. “I didn’t set it  _ entirely _ on fire,” they laughed. “I’ve been here two weeks, so it’s been warm for awhile.”

“Two weeks? You didn’t go elsewhere for your furlough?” Spy asked, a little surprised. “I thought you might have spent it with Engineer. I’m sorry, if I’d known you’d be alone, I would have… Well. If you’d wanted…”

Pyro flushed a little. “Dell went home; the Conagher ranch is pretty private.” They’d been there when they were a kid, but not since. They had assumed they wouldn’t be welcome. “I usually just come here early.” They tilted their head a little. “You’re sure? I don’t want to, um, get in the way. I’m sure you have things you want to do. What  _ did  _ you do, on furlough?”

Spy shook his head. “I went to a lovely tropical beach and it was splendid, but…it would have been better with you there,” he admitted, feeling only slightly foolish. He concentrated on his hot chocolate for a moment, then suggested, “You should ask him. I think he might welcome your company there.” He laughed. “Though I do appreciate the heat!”

“I missed you,” they said again. “I wish I  _ had _ gone with you.” They were a little embarrassed now, that they always spent furlough this way.

“I missed you too. Very much. You…could come with me next time?” he offered. “If you’d like, that is.”

“I’d like that.” They  _ would _ like that, though the idea of it also filled them with anxiety. They were never away from respawn, really, not ever. They couldn’t imagine not having that safety net. 

“Is everything alright?” Spy asked softly. “I didn’t say anything to upset you?” Pyro’s very open expression didn’t match their words. 

“Oh,” they smiled, awkwardly, “I just… I don’t really leave the bases, normally?” They hoped Spy would understand that the outside world was… intimidating.

“Mm. In that case…” Spy smiled softly. “…I could stay on-base with you?”

“No, no, I want to go with you! It’s just…” They sighed and admitted, “It’s a little scary.”

“Understandably.” He gave their hand another little squeeze. “I wouldn’t want to rush you or make you feel frightened or uncomfortable, not ever.”

“I know.” They sipped their hot chocolate. “But it’s probably past time for me to try.”

Spy shook his head. “Nonsense. Unless  _ you  _ feel that way.”

“Maybe.” 

“I certainly don’t.” 

They leaned against him affectionately, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Even if they thought they were too sheltered, maybe too naïve, Spy didn’t seem bothered by it, and he wanted them to do things in their own time. How had they gotten so lucky? “Love you,” they murmured.

“I love you too,” Spy quickly assured them. Each time he said it somehow felt like a relief, like the very first time. He wondered if the feeling would ever go away. He wasn’t sure he wanted it to.

Now that he wasn’t concerned about his imminent demise from exposure, Spy glanced around the room. There were little eyes glued onto...well, practically everything—the headboard of the bed, the back of the room’s sole chair, each drawer of the dresser. “I feel like I’m being watched,” he laughed, a little nervously. 

“Oh! You don’t mind them?” Pyro giggled a little. “Scout gave me a bunch of googly eyes for Christmas. I thought they were cute.”

“‘Googly eyes’?”

Pyro picked up a small package of the little eyes and gently shook it, showing Spy how the pupils wiggled around.

“I...see.” Spy was completely confused about the point of such things, but they clearly made Pyro happy and he didn’t want to seem critical of them. 

“You gonna stay the night? I know it’s hard to, midweek.” Pyro sipped their hot chocolate. “Or do we have to make the best of the evening?” They grinned.

“I’d like to,” Spy answered almost shyly. He grinned back. “And not  _ just  _ because it’s freezing out there and nice and warm in here.” He sipped some of his cocoa and then asked, “Is there anywhere you’ve always wanted to go?” He hadn’t travelled as extensively as he thought his counterpart had, but he’d seen most of Europe and taken forays into Asia. 

“I do want to see France,” they chirped. The Soldier on the Classic team had been French, and had spoken of it frequently. “But I’d like to go a lot of places. I’ve heard lots about places all around the world, from teammates.”

“I’m sure you have! Probably many I’ve never been to. I would be happy to take you to France, anywhere you’d like.” He suspected they’d probably want to go to Paris—that was where everyone seemed to want to go—but he wouldn’t try to talk them out of it either, or even mention visiting his birthplace. He didn’t want to make Pyro feel like he was pressuring them to go there.

To his surprise, that was immediately what Pyro asked. “Where are you from? Where would you want to go in France?”

“What, no dreams of romantic Paris?” Spy couldn’t help teasing a little, exaggerating the long ‘E’ sound. 

“Eventually. But you’d know where was best to go.”

“I don’t know about that,” Spy laughed. “But I’d be happy to take you to Lyon, where I was raised.”

They smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Would you like me to start planning a little trip for us?” Spy offered tentatively. 

They nodded, finishing their hot drink with a little smile. “I can’t wait.” It would be so hard to wait for next furlough now.

  
  


**Friday, January 17** **th** **, 1969**

 

During battle, the RED Spy followed the BLU Spy up to RED Sniper’s nest, in an attempt to catch the BLU before he took out his teammate. He didn’t quite make it in time, and he heard the other Spy cloak. He cloaked himself, smirking. “Was that you I heard screaming last night?” he taunted. “Bad dreams?”

The BLU Spy went very, very still. With any luck his counterpart would think he’d left already, or he could just stay still and quiet until the other man got bored. Unfortunately the RED was currently between him and the ladder down and out of the nest, and Spy doubted very much that it was unintentional. 

“If only you were equipped to handle a little bit of danger, hm? Like most spies.”

BLU’s hand tightened reflexively on the hilt of his knife. He wanted to stab that smarmy asshole, but not nearly as much as he wanted to escape back to the main battle. Unfortunately, he suspected his enemy would see either move as a show of weakness.

“What, nothing to say? I suppose you can’t really argue with me. You’re not much of a liar, and arguing would be lying, wouldn’t it?”

“At least I’m not desperate for a Conagher to beat the shit out of me—or do you actually want him to kill you?” BLU decloaked. 

“No, you’re just desperate for a Pyro to burn you.” The RED sneered at him, invisibly, flicking out his knife and approaching the BLU quietly. He completely ignored the other man’s taunt.

BLU smiled. “Desperate? I think not. Unlike you, I have a relationship, rather than an obsession.  _ Casse-toi,  _ you stuck-up fucker.” Despite his bold, confident words, BLU was feeling the strain of being trapped in this small space with an enemy. He could feel his hands beginning to shake, and he could only hope his counterpart wouldn’t notice. “Attack me or get out of my way—I have a job to do.”

“With pleasure.” The RED struck out with his knife, catching the BLU at his undefended throat.

“So predictable,” BLU sighed with mock-regret, dancing back out of the way and cloaking as he moved. It would feel  _ especially  _ good to stab this son-of-a-bitch today. He coloured behind his mask, hating the knowledge that the RED had heard him cry out during his nightmares the night before. Maybe he’d have to start sleeping with a gag when he spent nights with Pyro. 

It was nearly impossible to fight when both of them were invisible. After a few more missed swipes, the RED gave up with a growl of frustration and left.

BLU waited a few long, tense moments until he was  _ certain  _ the other Spy had left before climbing down the ladder himself and rejoining the battle. He was skittish and unnerved for the rest of the day—just as his enemy would want, he was sure—and his scores suffered for his unease. 

That night, alone in his bed—still cold, of course. No one had seemed willing or able to work on the furnace—he couldn’t stop thinking about the RED’s taunts. He  _ wasn’t _ much of a liar; his counterpart was right enough about that. And he’d come so close to having a panic attack in the nest. Dangerously close.  _ Too  _ close. 

He didn’t want to break—to  _ leave  _ Pyro, the way they’d been left so many times before by past lovers, but he was more and more certain his enemy was right. He didn’t belong here. He was just deluding himself. 

 

**Saturday, January 18** **th** **, 1969**

Pyro waited impatiently for Spy to come by, but by the end of the night, when the stars were all out and most everyone had already gone to sleep, it seemed obvious that he wasn’t coming. 

They hadn’t made  _ plans  _ to see each other, but lately Spy just came and went as he wanted and he seemed to want to be here more often than not. And Saturdays were good for them; Spy could sleep over without having to worry about the time. But still, Pyro felt …odd, about him not coming. 

They slept alone that night, but not peacefully.

**Sunday January 19th**

 

The next morning they went to see Sniper.

“’Morning, spark! I’m just finishing up my stretches.” It wasn’t unusual for Pyro to come and visit Sniper; they were two of the earliest risers on the team. Well, aside from Soldier, but  _ he  _ somehow managed to be less social than Sniper. Engineer was occasionally awake this early, but that usually meant he’d been up all night working and wasn’t in the mood for company. 

Sniper climbed down from the roof of his camper, where he liked to do his morning stretches in the first sunlight of the day, to greet his teammate properly. He could tell immediately—Pyro was also probably the only person on the team with a face easier to read than his own, which he appreciated—that they were upset about something. “Everything alright?”

Pyro shrugged, then shook their head. “Spy didn’t show up last night. …we didn’t make plans, but he usually comes by on Saturday, or even Friday. Would you give me a ride to the BLU base?” They had never been over there during the day, not even in their many years on RED. They were a little apprehensive, but wanted to see if Spy was alright.

“’Course, mate.” Sniper had to hunt around a little for the keys to his camper—he didn’t drive it very much anymore. He ushered Pyro into the cab and started the engine. “I’m a little surprised you didn’t ask Truckie, actually.”

“I was a little afraid I might walk in on him and Spy,” they admitted. “If you’re with Spy, you’re not outside, so I’d know right away.” Sniper was usually an early riser, but Spy could keep him in bed until late.  _ Just like my Spy does with me, _ they thought. 

Sniper snorted. “True enough.” As Pyro spoke, he had a sudden uncanny feeling that his Spy was somehow involved in the BLU’s absence. He didn’t mention his misgivings to Pyro. 

Pyro fidgeted as Sniper drove them to the other base. They bid him goodbye with a quick squeeze before tripping their way out of the camper, wiping out as they missed the step off the camper, standing and dusting themself off before heading in. They tiptoed in, nervous of running into an enemy, only now aware that they were not wearing either suit or mask and they would appear to be a stranger to anyone they met, other than Spy or Medic.

They found Spy’s door without an issue, the one with the knife class-symbol on it, without running into anyone. It was still early, after all. Taking a slow breath, they knocked, quietly. Suddenly it occurred to them that maybe there was another reason Spy hadn’t come by. What if he just hadn’t  _ wanted  _ to see them? They tried to push that thought aside, so it wouldn’t be easily seen on their face.

Spy glanced up, startled by the knock. His teammates usually left him alone, which suited him. He stood with a resigned sigh; if they  _ were  _ bothering him, it must be for a good reason. “Yes?” he said as he opened the door, trying to convey that he wasn’t in the mood for conversation and whoever it was should leave as quickly as possible.

He actually stumbled back a step with surprise when he saw who his visitor was. “P-Pyro?  _ Que fais-tu ici?” _

They smiled when they saw him, but they were clearly a little nervous. “Spy, sorry, I wasn’t sure if I should come or not, but I was worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” Spy asked, cocking his head. “Ah, yesterday was Saturday. You were expecting me?”

They nodded, feeling foolish for coming, for assuming something was wrong because he hadn’t come by to see them. “Sorry.”

Spy shook his head. “No, no.” He swallowed hard and considered lying to them. As the RED Spy had pointed out, he wasn’t especially good at it, but Pyro was an easy target. 

No. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Please, come in. …If you’d like.”

They stepped in, looking at Spy’s room curiously. It was quite spartan, with few personal effects and no furniture besides what TFI provided. “I guess it was a little silly of me, but I thought maybe something was wrong?” 

Quickly closing the door behind Pyro, Spy shook his head again. “No, nothing. Well…” He sighed again, heavily, before sinking onto the bed.

“I…I don’t think I belong here,” he said very softly, staring down at the floor so he wouldn’t have to look at them while he spoke. 

Pyro took his hand, squeezing gently. “Thierry… that’s not true. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. Did RED Spy say something?”

Spy’s hand tightened for a moment, but he didn’t pull away, not quite. “Perhaps. Whatever he might have said…he wasn’t incorrect.”

Pyro frowned. They felt angry. Not at Thierry, not at  _ their _ Spy, but the RED Spy. They had tried telling Dell about him, and his behaviour hadn’t changed. They didn’t want to hurt him themself; they didn’t want to end up going too far and ruining the team dynamic, but he had to be stopped. 

“He’s just an ass,” Pyro said, their usually soft voice harsh. “Just because he’s a manipulative little shit doesn’t mean he’s a better spy than you.”

“I know he’s only targeting my own insecurities, but he’s right.  _ I believe _ he is right.”

There wasn’t much they could say to that. But they did have an inkling as to who might be able to fix this part of the problem. They were going to have to move up the ladder, to a higher authority. Someone who understood spies, and who had far more power than they did. 

“I don’t think he is,” they murmured. “Do you want me to stay with you, or do you want me to go?”

“I—” Again, Spy was tempted to go with the easy lie, to push Pyro away to make this easier on both of them, but his weakness, his selfishness won out. “I’d like you to stay,” he whispered. 

They felt a rush of relief at that. They’d been afraid that Spy might quit, might leave—might leave without even saying anything. They shut that away for now, not wanting to show the fear and worry on their face. They sat on the edge of the bed, pulling him down with them. They didn’t know what to say, but they held him.


	21. Monday, January 20th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter!

**Monday, January 20th**

 

At the end of battle there was a call over the announcement system. 

_ “BLU Spy report to the Administrator’s office immediately.” _

BLU stiffened. His team had won—in no small part because of him, though he suspected Pyro had been going easy on him all day, which tainted the victory a little—and he’d begun to feel like slightly less of a failure, but that announcement sent a cold, heavy weight into his stomach, filling him with guilt and anxiety so hard and fast it was nearly physical. 

He shivered. Well, at least it would be over soon. He’d clearly been found out as a failure, and now… Now they would make him leave. He only hoped he’d get to say goodbye to Pyro before it happened. He looked for them as men from both teams left the battlefield, but he saw no sign of them and he didn’t want to keep the Administrator waiting. He broke into a light jog.

The RED Spy heard the announcement with a smirk. Finally, that failure was going to be replaced.

The Administrator’s office had a small waiting room and Spy was only left to sit there for a moment before Miss Pauling came in, with a little smile for him. “Spy,” she greeted him. Though she knew all her mercenaries’ names, it was better to keep to class names. 

“Miss Pauling.” He was surprised to see her, rather than the Administrator, though he wasn’t certain if her presence was good or bad. She was infinitely less terrifying than their employer, but he also knew Miss Pauling was the one in charge of wetworks.

“We need to sit down together, come with me,” she directed him, heading not for the main office where the Administrator sat in front of her many screens, but her own, far smaller office.

He followed, silent. 

She poured coffee for herself and, after offering him one, poured another. She sat on the far side of her desk, sipped her coffee, set it down, and then folded her hands on the desk in front of her. 

“Spy, do you think I’m an idiot?”

_ “Quoi?”  _ Spy asked, taken completely by surprise. Whatever he’d been expecting her to say, this was not it.  _ “Non, pas de tout, mademoiselle!”  _ he hurried to add.

“Good. Then this will be very simple. Since I am, as we’ve decided, not an idiot, then I’ll ask you one question. Why do you think I hired you?”

To his shame and horror, Spy found himself unable to manage any response besides opening and closing his mouth like a landed fish. 

“It’s because you’re a very good spy,” she said, simply. “You are among the top spies in the world. I hired you because I knew you would do a good job. You have been excelling in your position.” She sipped her coffee. “Do you understand?”

He nodded numbly in agreement. He didn’t understand, not at all. 

“I’m glad.” She smiled.

“I am…not being…let go?” he asked, his English embarrassingly halting and fragmented. He could barely think in French, never mind in what was, at best, his fourth language. 

“No. You’re not.”

“I—” He considered several statements, several questions, but stopped before saying any of them aloud. He froze, realization clicking into place.  _ Pyro _ must have set this up, must have mentioned something to her! With nearly anyone else on Earth, he might have suspected Miss Pauling was only doing this to please Pyro, a long-term employee, but he knew with utter certainty—well, as much certainty as he had about  _ anything _ —that Miss Pauling wouldn’t be swayed so easily. If she said these things, she meant them. And if she meant them, they were true. He would not have been recruited otherwise. Despite his insecurities and struggles, she was pleased with his work. She still considered him one of the top spies in the world. 

He let out a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“I…I am sorry for taking up your time with something so…” he waved a hand vaguely, unable to come up with the right word. 

“I’m a busy woman, but I make arrangements for things I think are  _ important _ ,” she told him. “I’m glad you see things my way now.” 

_ “Bien sûr.”  _ He didn’t care to speculate what happened to those who  _ didn’t  _ see things her way.

As he was leaving, Miss Pauling called out to him, “Spy?”

_ “Oui?” _

Her voice darkened. “I don’t want to tell you what will happen if you hurt Emery. In any way.”

He blinked, not understanding. Surely it was part of his  _ job  _ to hurt the RED Pyro. “ _ Mademoiselle?” _

She looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

He licked his lips, desperately wishing his mind could catch up. She'd said Emery, not Pyro. “You mean…outside of battle.”

“Yes.”

“ _ D’accord _ .” He managed to give her a faint smile. “ _ C'est la dernière chose que je voudrais faire _ ,” he added after a moment, very softly.

“Good. Have a good week!” she said, her tone turning suddenly friendly again. And with that, he was dismissed. 

Spy retired to his room, relieved that he kept a hidden bottle of brandy there at all times. He drank most of it before it could reach his glass.

 

**Friday, January 24** **th**

 

Spy was waiting in Pyro’s room when they returned after eating with their team, lying naked in bed. He hadn’t done anything nearly this bold before, and he hoped Pyro wouldn’t mind, but he’d been thinking about them all week—how much he loved and appreciated them, and how much they seemed to love and appreciate him in return, especially based on their recent actions. He wanted to show them how much he cared—and vent some of his remaining nervous energy from his encounter with Miss Pauling.

Pyro came in after their dinner, wearing their respirator. They were still in a good mood from the RED win earlier and another impromptu snowball fight with Scout.

They nearly jumped out of their skin when they saw Spy. They pulled their mask off, laughing at their own fearful reaction. “You scared me!” He was naked on their bed and they couldn’t help a little grin at that. 

“Sorry!” Spy surged to his feet, his legs tangling a little in the blanket—perhaps Pyro’s clumsiness had seeped into their room somehow? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just wanted to…ah. Fuck. This was a poor idea.”

“No! No, I’m glad you’re here,” they said, reaching out for him. “I missed you.”

“Ah,  _ merde,  _ I missed you too!” He enveloped them in a hug, kissing their cheeks and forehead wildly. “You’re far more devious than I gave you credit for, no?” he asked wryly, pinching their arm.

“Am I?” they asked, but they were smiling. They supposed it  _ had _ been a little devious, getting Miss Pauling involved. 

“Apparently,” Spy laughed, then bent to whisper, “Thank you,” in their ear before kissing it very gently. 

They shivered at Spy’s breath against their ear, humming appreciatively. “You’re welcome. I just wanted you to know what  _ I _ know. And what Miss Pauling knows.”

“Mm-hmm. Well, I’ve been trying to decide how to reward you all week… Do you have any thoughts, before I proceed?”

They shook their head, grinning. They were curious to see what Spy had come up with for them. 

Spy indicated, by twirling his finger, that Pyro should turn around, then gave them a very gentle pat on the bum to send them in the direction of the bed. 

Pyro went to the bed, crawling onto it and staying on all fours. They looked over their shoulder at Spy with a flutter of excitement.

“Is this alright?” he asked softly, stroking the curve of their hip before sliding his hand down and back to cup their ass with one hand. 

“Yes!” they agreed emphatically.

“Good,” Spy purred. He reached into Pyro’s bedside table, found their bottle of lube, and poured a generous amount into his hand. He slid his hands together for a moment, warming it before slicking himself. He held himself with one hand, slowly stroking, while reaching beneath Pyro to stroke them to get rid of some of the excess lube and slick them—not that they really needed it. “Have you been thinking of me as well?” he teased.

“Yes, every day,” they said, their voice breathy as he stroked his fingers along their entrance and up over their clit. 

“Splendid.” Spy lined himself up, easily sliding his head in. “You feel so good,” he moaned. “Missed you. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He laughed, a little unsteadily. “I wanted to thank you all week. It was driving me mad that I couldn’t do…do anything.”

They moaned as he pressed deeper into them, opening them up around his cock. “Oh, Thierry, so good.” They barely managed to get the words out before their voice gave out and all they could manage for awhile were soft gasping cries.

_ “Je t’aime, je te veux, je te besoin,”  _ Spy breathed, low and needy—almost desperate. He pushed deeper still until he bottomed out, then placed a hand on each of their hips and started rocking them back and forth in counterpoint to his thrusts. 

They let out a loud groan as he hit the deepest part of them. “Oh god, oh, oh, oh!” They clutched at the sheets, bracing themself to push back into him. They were flushed all the way from their face down to their freckled chest. “Yes!”

“You’re a pest,” he chided playfully through gritted teeth, “a menace! Perhaps I will make a spy out of you yet, no?” he laughed, breathing hard as he sped up. 

They giggled breathlessly, “No!” but their protests were interrupted by more loud sounds of pleasure. 

“No to which part?” Spy grunted, grinning down at them. He hooked his fingers into the hollow where their hips met their thighs so he could get an even better grip. 

“Thierry!” they protested, but their arguments were limited to that one word.

_ “Quoi, mon feu?” _

They whimpered, digging their fingernails into the sheets as they came loudly, their muscles tightening around Spy’s cock.

Spy sank his teeth into his lower lip, eyes rolling up in his head as he fought to hold off his own climax. This was supposed to be  _ Pyro’s _ reward, after all. He wanted to make sure they were fully satisfied before he finished. 

They practically screamed as they came again, biting their own lip, clawing at the sheets and pressing back into Spy in counterpoint to his thrusts. “ _ Yes _ !”

“You’re not finished yet, are you?”

They whined, muffling their noises by burying their face in their sheets. They felt like they couldn’t  _ stop  _ cumming. Spy felt so good in them and they loved the feel of his fingers digging into their hips. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’?” Spy teased. Speech was difficult, but also helped him hold on longer. 

This time their scream was quieter, muted by the fact that their face was pressed into the mattress. 

Spy could feel them cum again, from the way their muscles seemed to draw him deeper and hold him there. “Fuck,  _ fuck,  _ you feel good!” he gasped, losing his rhythm for several heartbeats. 

“Please, please,” they pleaded. “Cum in me!” They raised themself up onto all fours again, bracing hard so Spy could fuck them harder.

It was only a matter of breaths before Spy obliged, hips rocking and jerking wildly as he came with a shout. 

They gave a last cry before collapsing onto the bed. Slowly, they eased forwards after Spy had finished, then flopped onto their side, holding out an arm for Spy to join them on the bed.

Spy wriggled and slithered his way up to them and into their arms, beaming like a fool the entire time. 

They peppered him with kisses, grinning. “I love you.”

_ “Je t’aime aussi. Tellement.” _

 


	22. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we say goodbye to our boys as they leave on their first furlough together!

**May 15 1969**

  
  


“Are you finished packing, or do you need a few more minutes?” Spy asked, lighting a cigarette as he stood in Pyro’s doorway. “I’m a few minutes early, I know.” He grinned. “I just got so fucking excited and couldn’t wait any longer!”

Pyro smiled brightly to see Spy, throwing themself into his arms for a quick hug. “I’m ready, I think! Thanks for helping with a list.” They had been stumped on what to pack until Spy had given them a list of essentials.

Spy hugged them back just as enthusiastically. “I’m glad you asked me for help. Not everyone would, I don’t think.” He bent to kiss their forehead. 

 “I’m glad you’re as excited as me.”

“Of course I am! Perhaps more,” he laughed, “because I know what’s coming and you don’t.”

“I like surprises. I couldn’t sleep last night.” It had been like Christmas Eve. 

They put the last of their clothes in their bag, as neatly folded as they could manage, and zipped it up. “I’m ready.”

“Really?” Spy teased, torn between wanting to hold onto Pyro and wanting to begin their adventure together. “I never would have guessed. You certainly enjoy preparing them for other people also, no?” He kissed their forehead again, then reluctantly let go of them. “You can sleep in the car,” he suggested, “or on the plane.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep on the plane!” It would be their first time flying.

“You don’t think so? I find them quite soothing—even when I’m excited.” He smiled at them. “And it’s a  _ very _ long flight.”

“I’ve never been on one,” they admitted. “Only trains.”

“Really? I didn’t realize!  _ Merde,  _ this is even more exciting for you than I thought!” He gave their hand a gentle squeeze. “You’ll love it, I’m sure.”

With a grin, they followed him out to his car. 

They were ready to leave the base, ready to have an adventure, and, most of all, ready to spend their furlough with Spy. 


End file.
